2 Years 65 Days 2 Many
by AmyD and Suisan
Summary: Events that might have taken place between Trust Metric and Hollywood Homicide if they had taken place in our AU 'verse of the Cascade Granger Clan. The return of Chief Gigi and now you get to meet the rest of the clan! Now complete! Really! Honestly.
1. Chapter 1  A Mother Hears the Unthinkab

Yes, from the twisted minds of Suisan and Amy, the Twisted Evilettes, we are proud to present our latest effort, Two Years and Sixty-Five Days Too Many.

This story takes place in the Cascade - Grangers A/U 'Verse and, as such, it's our take on the events that 'might have' happened between the end of 'Trust Metric' and 'Hollywood Homicide.'

This story is rated PG-13 and, yes, there is profanity in the story.Both Amy and Suisan would like to thank our beta reader Ely for reading this story and not run screaming the other way when this super-sized story landed (like a ticking time bomb) in her in-box. We would also like to thank our mutual friend, Ruthie, for reading the story as well.

Of course, the biggest thank you goes to Cheryl Hutton and Nick Falacci, the creators of Numb3rs, as well as all the actors and actresses, not to mention all the other people connected to the showwho give such a wonderful playground to play in. Any and all comments, complaints, intelligent criticisms, squeeing, gifts of chocolate, offers of hot Feds in kevlar or soaking wet Feds (or soaking wet, hot feds in Kevlar bearing gifts of chocolate) can be sent to MizDenton earthlink (dot) net or Suisan aol (dot) com. All flames will be cheerfully ignored.

This story is dedicated to the real Jessica Lewis (not her real name), a Coast Guardmedic, and to all law enforcement officers and military personal whomake the sacrifices so the rest of us don't have to. **Thank you.**

**_Disclaimer_**: With the exceptions of Gareth, Cat, Lars, Cliff and Cody Granger, Dr. Adam Mosely, Chief Petty Officer Tristan DeCuna, Petty Officer Jessica Lewis, Dr. Elaine Donovan-Walker and Alexandra Hamilton, all characters contained herein this story are the propertyof Cheryl Hutton, Nick Falacci and Scott Free Productions and areused without permission. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary profit is being made. Please don't sue us, we're extremely poor – remember, the authors are both college students. Older college students, sure, but just as poor as the younger ones.

And now … on with the story……

34 **Hours**

1954 **Miles**

1 **Agent**

65 **Days**

**

* * *

Prelude**

He slowed down to the posted speed limit as he approached the city limits. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over by a cop or a sheriff's deputy in this town. Not this weekend. There was way too much to do and too little time to complete the self-imposed mission. Things were in motion that made him uncomfortable, like he was living on borrowed time, but breaking operational security was a necessary evil. He couldn't, in good consciousness, not tell the Chief what might be about to happen.

Pulling off of the main drag, he turned the rental car onto Main Street and then onto West Spring. Technically the Police Department and the Valley County Sheriff's Office were two separate legal entities but in reality, the two departments shared a building and a central lock up. The man fairly stumbled out of the driver's seat, muscles and bones protesting the long hours behind the wheel, and he fought not to scratch at the prosethics on his face as he looked up at the Law Enforcement Building through super-dark tinted aviator's glasses.

Shaking off the stiffness, he looked around the lot and spotted the car he'd hoped to see sitting in it's reserved spot. 'Good, I don't have to wait for him to come in out of the field.' Crossing the lot, he walked up the few steps to the front door and pushed in like he knew what he was doing and was more familiar with the place than a out of town visitor should've been. He removed the sunglasses as he stepped up to the reception desk and looked down at the woman sitting there with his brown eyes.

"Can I help you, sir?" She asked, barely glancing up at him from the report she was writing.

"Is Chief Granger in?" He inquired, his voice rough from disuse.

The woman nodded and waved her hand toward the back office on the right side of the joint use area. "Sure is, back that-a-way. Just knock and go in. Slow day, Chief should be happy for a visitor."

"Thank you." He moved beyond her desk, wondering how in the hell the woman who he'd known most of his life hadn't recognized him, but also very thankful she didn't. Knocking on the frame of the open door to the Chief's office, he stepped in when the older man waved him in.

"Can I call you back, Cat? Someone just came in. Thanks." Police Chief Gareth Granger hung up the phone as he rose to greet the man standing in his office. "Hello there, Chief Granger, how can I help you?"

"Can we talk in private, Chief?" When the lawman nodded, the visitor turned around to shut the open door and lowered the blinds on the windows while he was at it. When he rotated back on his heel to face the police Chief, he saw the man had unsnapped his sidearm holster and was lightly resting his hand on the butt of his weapon. The visitor slowly raised his hands as he spoke, "Jeeze, Dad, don't shoot me."

The expression that crossed his father's face nearly made Colby Granger laugh out loud, except his presence in Cascade was no laughing manner. Before his father could blurt out his name, Colby shook his head 'no' and raised a finger to his lips in the classic 'shush' motion. His father came around the desk and pulled him into a bear hug. His voice was conversational in level, but worried in tone. "Colby, it's great to see you, but why are you here and in that get-up?"

Colby removed the ball cap with the long, dark brown wig attached to it, but left the fake mustache in place. "It's a long story, Dad, but you need to know before things go much further."

"Well, if its that long of a tale, let's go to the house so your mother can see you."

"No." That word nearly broke his heart, but Colby couldn't risk his mother – or anyone else other than Gareth knowing he'd even been in Cascade. As far as anyone knew, he was on a requested weekend off so he could attend one of the many Society for Creative Anachronism events taking place on the west coast. "Dad, I'm sorry, but what I need to tell you, Mom can't know."

"Can't know what? Colby James, what's going on?"

Colby sat down on the comfortable couch his father kept in the office, sinking deep into the well worn but supportive leather cushions. "It started when I was in the academy, Dad, and things are slowly moving toward an end game that—" He couldn't complete the thought without explaining a bit more about the background of the whole sordid mess. "Dad? Do you recall me telling you about Dwayne Carter?"

* * *

Gareth had escorted his disguised son back out to his car roughly an hour after Colby had walked into his office. The whole family was devoted to serving the public but what Colby was doing…..

The fact that he couldn't even tell Cat their son had been in town and gone wasn't going to be easy. Gareth had done more than his fair share of operational spook stuff while in the Army and knew a slip on his part, or Cat's if he told her what Colby had told him, he could be signing his son's death warrant. The rental car pulled out of the lot and Gareth knew his son was heading back to Los Angeles and back to his mission. Didn't mean he had to like it, but he was also proud of Colby. No Granger, by blood or by marriage, had ever turned down a challenge because it would be difficult. If anything, Grangers seemed to thrive on the adrenaline rush that could result from a well done, and completed, mission or task.

Gareth headed toward his patrol unit, he had to think before going home and there was a nice little spot out on Lakeshore Drive where he could park and ostensibly run radar. This time of day though, there wouldn't be much traffic on the road and he could use the time to come up with an 'excuse' for why he'd been closeted with a stranger for well over an hour.

The drive out to his 'fishing hole' for speeders was pleasant, the weather had just in the last couple of days warmed up into truly summer temperatures and there was a nice breeze coming off Cascade Lake once he parked his unit.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the folded piece of paper Colby had handed him before he left the office and, opening it, started to chuckle. The aerial photograph showed a large patch of ground just on the eastern edge of the city and it was marked with a circle around a darker area of vegetation and a note; "possible marijuana growth." His youngest might not have the brains of the Granger siblings, but he wasn't a slouch in that department either.

Colby had known Gareth would need a reason to have talked in private for so long with someone who wasn't a native to the area and provided a ready-made bust in the process. The land in question belonged to one of the handful of people Gareth and Sheriff Leon Leland suspected of growing and selling dope to the local teens. Now he was holding possible photographic evidence of the growing end of the drug operation, courtesy of his second FBI Agent son.

Gareth winced. If it hadn't been for Cody William recommending the FBI to Colby after he'd gotten out of the Army before the Army could slap an Officer's rank on him – he'd completed a two-year degree in history with a language (Spanish) minor – Colby wouldn't be in the mess he was facing now. Cody loved his work as a cryptographer for the FBI's Intelligence section though and thought, rightfully so, that his younger brother would take to the agency like a duck to water.

He reached for his radio's microphone and keyed it up. "Valley One, you out and about?"

"Roger that, Cascade One. What you got on your mind?"

"I'm out on Lakeshore … why not head this way and find out?"

"Nineteen that way."

It would have to be a joint operation, the suspected marijuana patch was well over a half acre in footage, if Gareth was reading the photo right. 'Might as well do something with the information Colby handed me.' Gareth looked toward the south, in the general direction his boy would be traveling. "Good luck, Colby James."

* * *

Explanation of the Numbers at the start: 

**Hours** -- Drive time to and from LA to Cascade with an hour's talking with Dad.

**Miles **– Round Trip mileage – there and back again.

**Agent** – D'uh!

**Days** – Number of days that pass in the story. I added 3 weeks to the five from the 'time lapse' in the show from 'Janus List' to 'Trust Metric' to give CeeJay enough time to get up to Cascade and tell Dad before the arrest a month later. Day 65 would be the day Colby is pulled off that China-bound freighter and 'rescued' by his teammates.

* * *

2 **Traitors**

795 **Days**

1 **Team**

2 **Nations**

**Part One - A Mother Hears t****he Unthinkable**

Catherine Granger loved, and hated, days like today when the weather around Cascade was unsettled. Officially, it was spring, but someone had neglected to tell Mother Nature and she had decided that dumping a final two inches of snow on the area seemed like a good idea. Normally, Catherine wouldn't mind, but the unaccustomed dampness added to an unseasonable chill had set her lower back to doing the tango…and that was without her moving any other muscle.

Grimacing as she gingerly sat down in the large recliner after taking her pain meds, Cat turned on the timed heating pad, then the early evening news.Gareth was due home soon and, for once, she didn't have a clue as to what dinner might be, let alone if she wanted even eat. She heard his patrol car pull up the gravel drive just as Fox News opened their newscast with 'breaking news' out of Los Angeles.

Cat's ears pricked up, normally she could care less about what happened in the City of Angels, the City of Hollyweirdness. However, since her youngest son was stationed there with the FBI, she'd learned to at least half-way listen to the Big News out of there.

_"In breaking news out of Los Angeles today, it looks like the Federal Bureau of Investigations might want to do a clean sweep of their house. A second agent based in the area has been arrested on charges of spying for a foreign state. Strangely enough, this agent was instrumental in the arrest of the first agent arrested in Los Angeles on the same charges just about seven months ago. Special Agent Colby Granger joined the FBI shortly after his honorable discharge from the Army and, until now, had been considered an exemplary agent. FBI Director Joseph Atwater had no comments and none of our contacts in the LA branch are returning phone our calls. Again, Special Agent Colby Granger has been arrested earlier today on charges of spying for a foreign state. Now, in other news today…"_

"WHAT?!?" Cat hadn't really been paying attention, not until she heard Colby's name. Then, she heard it a second time and that time heard the words that shattered her world. "It's a mistake, it's a damn mistake! It's not Colby, there's no way they're talking about my son!"

She flipped the channel over to CNN, _"…Colby Granger, a FBI agent in Los Angeles…"_

To CNBC, _"…Granger was arrested today on accusations of spying for…"_

To ABC, _"…Once more a FBI Agent in Los Angeles, one Colby Granger, has been arrested on charges of possible treason and spying…"_

To CBS, _"…A second arrest of a FBI agent on charges o__f spying for a foreign state. Granger was apprehended by his team leader, Special Agent Don Eppes…"_

Catherine hadn't even been aware that she'd gotten to her feet, or that Gareth had walked in and was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, until her legs gave way and he was suddenly there to catch her and help her to sit back down. She wrapped her arms around her husband of 42 years and felt him return the embrace. "Gar… tell me it's a mistake, it's not OUR son, it's not Colby—"

His head moved against her shoulder, in a negative motion. "Sorry, Cat. I heard the news on NPR and tried to get home before you turned on the television—"

She pushed him back so she could look into his face. "Gareth, what are you not telling me? Is this real? Did you somehow know about this before he was arrested?"

Gareth Granger stood up and moved away from her, putting a distance between them that he thought was safe. It was a classic Granger move, even her children had learned it but it had never worked with her. "Catherine, Colby was here, in Cascade, a little over a month ago. He didn't flat out tell me exactly what was going on, but after hearing the news…" Gareth shrugged. "Cat, he's been undercover since the Academy."

"You mean since he graduated Quantico?" It wasn't unheard of for law enforcement to pluck recruits direct out of their training facilities for use in undercover work, Catherine knew this from her own family's background if nothing else.

"No, Cat. He was still _in_ the Academy when he was pulled in for the assignment." Gareth undid his duty belt and hung it on the special hook he'd installed near the computer center he'd built for them before turning back to find Catherine getting to her feet. "Damn it, woman, I've already seen the inside of the clinic enough times today from working stupid accidents, I do NOT want to have to haul your butt in there."

"You knew." Her voice was like ice.

He blanched and flinched as if she had struck him.

"You goddamn knew my son, my baby boy, was somehow shanghaied into some sort of scheme that placed him in harm's way and you Didn't Say ANYTHING?!"

"Baby, I couldn't! CeeJay wasn't sure who to trust when he came to me and he swore me to secrecy – begging me not to tell you in particular – before he would even start to tell me what he thought might happen."

He was a smart man. Gareth was trying to maintain a constant distance between her and him, but he was losing ground. Too many years of chasing down rambunctious boys, or even wringing confessions out of school hoodlums when she taught public school, had given Catherine many fine skills, including how to box a target into a corner.

She watched him, she listened to his protests, but all she heard was that he'd known. "Gareth Grant Granger, you knew our son was involved in something hinky and you didn't think to tell me?" Her voice was low, in tone and vocal temperature it probably would register about –50° -- Celsius.

"Cat – I told you, CeeJay swore me to secrecy, he wouldn't even tell me the whole story, just that he was investigating his old Army buddy as a possible spy for the ChiComs and, if things went south in a hurry, his name might come up in connection to Carter. And not in a good way."

_**CRACK!**_

Her hand flew across his face, his head snapping to one side. Gareth was stunned. Never in their 42 years of marriage had she ever struck him.

Her hand stinging, Catherine had heard enough. "Get out."

"Cat?"

"Get out of my house, Gareth."

"You don't mean that—"

Catherine reined in her temper and glared at him. "Yes, I do, Gareth.Get. Out. Before I do something far worse than slap you." She stepped back to let him pass and refused to follow his progress as he gathered up his things and left the house. She didn't hear his patrol unit start up, which was fine, he could stay in the barn or in the old outbuilding she had used as a school for the boys, but he was not staying with her.Not tonight.

She slowly walked over to the cabinet near the kitchen and, after reaching for a tumbler in the china hutch, grabbed a bottle of her favorite scotch and poured a single finger's depth in the glass. Catherine returned to her chair and the heating pad and proceeded to sip the smoky liquid at a deliberate pace.

"My son is not a traitor. My son is not a traitor."She kept repeating the words like a mantra and, when the house phone started to ring off the hook, she was able to totally ignore it. If it was important, or a neighbor needing something, they'd call back or drop by. As it was, she was never answering the landline ever again. All her boys had her cell number and Catherine never went anywhere without it, so her family could always reach her.

She pulled the tiny folded phone out of her pocket and held it in her hand, mentally begging her baby to use his right to a phone call to call her.

He didn't.


	2. Chapter 2  Five Weeks Later

Part Two - Five Weeks Later 

Megan lurched through the freighter's hatchway, hot on Don's heels. She stumbled to a stop as she spotted Don and David leaning over Colby's still form doing CPR.

"Oh, damn."

She spun around and took off running for the top deck. Colby needed help and NOW! She ignored the fear that clawed at her soul and twisted her stomach into a knot. She had to; she didn't have the time to do otherwise.

She made the top deck less than a minute after leaving the stateroom, not that it didn't feel a whole lot longer. "I need a medic!" She hollered.

Coast Guardsman medic Jessica 'Jessie' Lewis looked up from her bandaging of the HRT's medic, Tim Ryan's, arm. "Over here!"

"I've got an agent down with two others doing CPR on him." Her words came out in a rush but Jessie and Tim understood her perfectly.

"Go. I'll be fine." Tim said, pulling his arm away from Jessie.

She nodded. In one smooth movement, she stood, collected her field kit and the basket used to transport the injured. "Led the way."

* * *

It was exactly as the agent had said. One down, two doing CPR and mouth-to-mouth. She came over and put her kit down, getting Don's attention. He stopped and touched David's arm. Startled, David stopped, glaring at Don but giving Jessie a chance to check for a pulse. Agonizing seconds ticked past. David, obviously thinking she was taking too long, leaned over Colby to start CPR again.

"No, I've got a pulse. Stop compressions." She barked at him, holding out one hand.

Those were the sweetest words Megan, Don and David had ever heard.

With David's help, Colby was transferred to the rescue basket and then carried out to the hovering chopper outside. Her field kit slung across her body, Jessie snapped the hook from the cable onto the basket, then climbed onto the basket herself, balancing on the edges and holding onto the cable.

"UCLA." She said, before the basket was lifted into the air.

Megan stood with the others, watching the slow trip up, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. "Please, please, please, be okay." She murmured.

When the basket and Jessie were safely on board and the chopper was gone, she looked over at David and Don. Neither looked good at all. David was positively ashen and was leaning against the bulkhead. Don, the 14-year veteran, had developed a greenish tinge around his face.

//_You can not fall apart, Reeves_.// She reprimanded herself. //_Fall apart later_.//

"David? You need to sit down for a moment?" Megan asked. She had never seen him look so bad, at least while standing up.

He shook his head. "I'm going to help the HRT." He pushed off the bulkhead and headed toward the aft of the freighter, his steps none too steady.

Megan closed her eyes for a moment, then turned to speak to Don but he wasn't where he had been ten seconds earlier. "Don?"

//_Crap. I need homing beacons for those two_.//

* * *

Don had watched the little Coastie medic and David haul Colby's nearly lifeless body out of the room, Megan fast on their heels, he had even followed but the second the rescue basket was inside the big orange helicopter, Don had returned to where they'd found Colby. This stateroom, common room, what ever it was – //_torture chamber//_ whispered a voice in the back of his mind – was a crime scene and clues as to what happened to Colby had to be here.

There were empty glass syringes on the table close to where Colby had been restrained; along with several tiny vials of…he couldn't even begin to say the names of the drugs. He could, however, make sure the hospital knew about them and, after dropping them into a plastic evidence bag, placed them in a pocket on his vest. He heard a crunch under his foot and looked down, spotting a video camera on a tripod, one of those digital camera jobs, lying on the floor. Curious, he picked it up and saw it was still recording.

"What the hell?" He stopped the recording and hit play back. First image nearly made him spit in disgust. Colby walking into the room and greeting someone like a potential friend, or coworker. He zipped forward, then had to stop and go back, watching as Colby allowed himself to be disarmed. Something had transpired but he wasn't going to rewind to see what it was. An unknown male voice's next words caught his attention.

"**…_He's a triple agent, Dwayne. He's been feeding us lousy intel and spying on us for the FBI for the last two years. May I have the phone, please_?**" Mason Lancer stepped into the frame and Don couldn't believe how polite the man was as he took the phone from Colby's hand. Nor how calmly Colby gave over the only lifeline he had to the world off this damn cargo vessel. The very phone he had probably used to contact Charlie and he just gave it up. "_**How long were you planning on playing this? All the way through to China?**_"

"**_If I had to_.**" The cold certainty in Colby's voice sent a shiver down Don's spine and he found himself looking for a chair. He hit the fast forward and stopped the recording again when he saw the man he now knew to be a master spy for the Chinese approached a now restrained Colby with a syringe in his hand. Don didn't catch all of what Lancer said, but what he did say made him ill.

"**…_A non-lethal dose of tubocurarine. What it does is paralyze the muscles and depress the respiratory capabilities. Creating what I've heard described as the sensation of slowly drowning_.**" The expression on Colby's face was painful to see. He was clearly having trouble breathing, his chest moving in jerky motions even as the tendons and muscles on the side of his neck popped out and his coloring worsened.

Don hit the fast-forward and stopped when he'd spotted Lancer moving away from Colby – once more brandishing a syringe. //_This guy just doesn't know when to quit_!// He thought to himself but, then again, from the looks of things, Colby wasn't about quit either. //_Damn, Colby, what the hell? Are you really that deep into your cover – even at this late date – or are you just that damn stubborn_?//

This time, it was Colby's voice that issued from the recorder first.

"**…_It also causes hallucinations and loss of mental and physical control_.**" How could Colby be so damn composed about what Lancer was doing to him?

"**_Good_.**" Lancer sounded just like one of Don's college professors when a student had responded with a correct answer. "**_Then you'll know what to expect_.**" Don didn't immediately hit the fast forward, he was glued to the tiny screen – condemned to watch his agent, the man he thought had betrayed him and his country, like a bystander watching a car accident. He didn't look away, he couldn't, even when the Grand Mal-like seizures ripped through Colby's body and he started trying to dodge something that only he could see. But he never made a sound. Don stopped the tape, feeling the bile rise in his throat. He wasn't sure he could watch the rest of the recording, but he knew he had to.

His hands shaking, Don had trouble reading the control buttons on the still unfamiliar camera, but he finally found the control he needed and sent the visual record into a fast forward once more, stopping it when he saw Lancer drop out of the frame suddenly. "What the…?"

Carefully stepping the footage back a few frames at a time, Don hit the 'play back' button when he saw everyone in the room react to something outside. "**_This is the FBI! Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded_!**" The announcement barely recorded on the tape, but it sent Lancer into action; he immediately loaded another syringe. Don stepped back a few more frames and focused his attention on Colby. There was a small smirk of relief on his face just after the boarding warning sounded, but when he looked back at Lancer, his expression was a study in bitter disappointment and utter helplessness.

Dwayne Carter's voice suddenly cut through to Don. "**_What are you doing_?**"

"**_What I said I'd do_.**" It was calm, deliberate and Lancer plunged the syringe into Colby's shoulder and Colby's eyes clenched shut in pain. Don nearly jumped out of his skin when a gun fired too damn close to the camera's mic, but Lancer went down – his hand flying off the syringe still stuck in Colby. Then the thug Don himself had shot coming into the room fired a shot toward the left of the camera's pick up and Carter's body dropped across the field of vision. The man who'd shot Carter suddenly dropped – no sound here – the first shot from Carter had overwhelmed the microphone. Don stopped the tape as he saw himself come into the room.

He lunged to his feet, barely restraining the urge to throw the camera against a wall; they would need to show it to someone. Just who, Don wasn't sure at the moment, but everything on the tape was proof that Special Agent Colby James Granger had gone far above and beyond his sworn duties to bring down a real spy and traitor.

"Don?" Megan's voice echoed through the room. She had come looking for him.

He took the compact camera off the tripod and shoved it, damnable recording and all, into a watertight evidence bag and then into another one of the pockets on his tactical vest. He turned to see her stepping through the hatchway. "Yeah, Reeves?"

"You okay? Physically anyway?" she asked.

"No new holes." He didn't want to look at her just yet. He was trying to get his stomach and his emotions under control.

"Don?" She came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me."

He shook his head and pushed past her to gain access to the outer hallway and, in a few precious seconds, the railing of the ship. Taking deep breaths of sea air didn't help. For the first time in over 14 years, Don tossed his cookies at a crime scene.

Megan had followed him and witnessed his disgrace. "Don? Oh, God...Don, what happened? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer for a few minutes, wanting to make sure he wasn't going to blow chunks again before wiping his mouth off and shaking his head. "Son of a bitch taped everything, Megan. What he said, what he did to Colby-- What Colby didn't say. Even when Lancer stuck the poison in his shoulder, Colby never cried out."

Megan had placed a hand on his back while he'd been heaving, and it was through that simple contact that he felt the behaviorist shudder. Don turned around, his back to the rail and sank down to sit on the deck. She squatted down in front of him, looking at him until he met her eyes. "We got here in time. You know that."

"Yeah, but we should've been faster. Why did I ever think, ever believe that Granger - of all people - could possibly have been a double agent?"

She almost smiled. "Because you're very good at your job and you followed the evidence, that's why."

Don leaned his head back against the bulkhead under the side rail, not caring that he cracked his head on the steel. "I should've followed my gut. I _knew_ there was something off, something not quite right, almost from the very moment Charlie told me Granger's name was on Ashby's list."

"You crack your head open and you're on your own." Megan said. "Although with that thick skull of yours-- You want to play the 'I should've' game, go ahead. Not that it's going to make a dime's worth of difference." She shifted her body and sat down beside him, her back also braced against the rail bulkhead.

"It will to me, Megan." Don reached down and clutched the camera through the pocket of his vest. "I didn't watch the whole thing but Lancer was pressuring, torturing, Colby for a long time. Like he knew he could do what ever he wanted to do and no one would ever know. And I nearly let it happen." He stopped, taking another deep breath as his stomach threatened to explode upward again. "At least what's on this tape will clear Colby's name, even though it'll probably cause an international firestorm. I just hope the investigative panel can stomach watching the whole thing."

She almost smiled again. "They're going to, even if we have to stand there and make them."

Don smiled. For some reason he got a very clear image of Megan standing before the panel, her gun in one hand and the other on the throat of the chairman. "Just make sure they watch the tape, Megan. But...but don't ask me to let you see it until we know Colby's going to be okay." The thought of his next task immediately loomed large in his brain. "Oh crap."

"What? Don, what--?"

He slid over onto one hip, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and started to dig for a particular card. "Chief Granger." Was all the explanation he gave her as he found the man's business card; If Megan was to run her own team one day, this was a duty he hoped she never had to perform.

Her eyes widened. "Oh..." was all she said.

Pulling his cell phone out, Don was relieved, and oddly disappointed, that he had good signal strength, even this far out from shore. "Megan, call Wright and see what he can do for the Chief. We need to make sure he's here when-" //_Yes, 'when' not 'if_,// "-Colby wakes up."

She nodded and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She stood and walked a distance away and dialed. Don looked at the card and punched in the number for Cascade Idaho's Police Department. The phone rang twice on the other end before someone picked up.

"_Cascade PD, Doris speaking, how can I help you_?"

"Chief Granger, please."

"_One moment_."

"_Granger_."

"Gigi...it's Don Eppes."

"_Don, it's good to hear-- Oh crap. What's wrong_?"

Don took a deep breath, released it. "Gigi, Colby's been hurt. It doesn't look good."

"_Hurt? How? He's in lock up_!"

He swiftly prayed for strength and just as quickly as he could, Don gave Chief Granger a very fast, and incomplete, sketch of all that had happened in the last 12 hours, ending with: "Colby's being airlifted to UCLA Medical Center. Megan's on the phone with the director to get you down here as quickly as possible."

Just as he said it, Megan handed him a hastily scribbled note. On it were the words –

_**FBI Jet, Cascade airfield. Taking off now, flight time ETA one and a half hours**._

"_Don_," Chief Granger's voice came over the phone, grabbing his attention again. "_Just how bad is it? And, please, don't sugar coat it_."

"Gigi . . . it's bad. He's worse than he was when Mad Hattie got a hold of him." How does one tell the father of an agent that the agent had been...for lack of a better term...tortured to death? Literally? "The Director is sending the Bureau's jet up to Cascade, it'll be there in three hours."

The sigh from the Cascade end sounded as if Chief Granger suddenly had the weight of the entire universe on his shoulders. "_Thank you, Don. I'll let Cat know and then I'll meet the plane_."

"All right. I'll be there when you land."

"Okay and Don? Keep an eye on him until I get there."

A sad smile crossed Don's face. //_It's all my damn fault_!// "You know I will." He ended the call before Gareth could say anything else. Megan was handing him her phone as he stood up. "What?"

"Director Hoffman wants to talk to you. He doesn't sound very happy."

Don scowled. "The Director knows where--" He bit his tongue, it wouldn't help anyone, least of all Colby, to get fired by mouthing off to the Director of the LA Field Office. He took the phone from her and, just because he could and the most the man could do was chew him out when he got back to the office, he closed it, effectively hanging up without talking to the Director. Megan's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"I've got other things to deal with right now." Don defended his action, handing the phone back to Megan. "Where did David go again?"


	3. Chapter 3  Are You Sure?

**Part Three -****Are You Sure? **

David managed to make it all the way aft, where the HRT and the Port Police had corralled the last of the crew, without falling over. In his mind, over and over played the image of Colby slumped in the chair, the needle sticking out of him, the sick feeling in his gut increased each time the movie played in his mind. He shook his head. //_Damn it, no! I don't have time for that_.//

He leaned against the railing for a moment and let the ocean breeze blow across his face. //_Jeez, I feel like crap. What the hell_?//

He turned around and smacked into Tim Ryan, the HRT medic. Tim winced as the collision jarred his wounded arm but he put out his good arm and steadied David. "David? You okay? We all saw the chopper leave. Who's in the basket?"

Dots started to dance in front of David's eyes and the deck started to tilt.

"David? Damn...sit down, now." Tim's voice sounded like it was coming from a thousand miles away.

"But..."

"NOW." Tim gave David a firm shove and he was on the floor of the deck. Tim crouched next to him. "Put your head between your knees, Sinclair."

David did, praying he wouldn't throw up. He felt Tim's hand on his wrist but didn't bother to look up.

"Crap. It was Colby in the basket, wasn't it?"

David nodded.

"Damn, damn, damn." There was a pause, and David sensed Tim leaning down over him. "All right, I want you to focus on something simple like taking one breath at a time. Can you do that?" Tim said.

To David, he sounded alarmed. //_What's the big deal? It's not like I'm dying...Not like_--// He let out a small moan.

"David...relax...you're going to be fine. Just concentrate on one breath at a time." There was noise and some kind of conversation above his head. He lifted his head to hear only to have Tim push it back down.

"One breath at a time. Listen to me."

David did and slowly, the lightheadness passed. Well, it kinda passed.

A jacket was draped over his shoulders and then he heard a familiar voice. "Tim? What's wrong? What happened?"

//_Oh, this just gets worse_.// Maybe he was going to throw up after all.

There was another conversation above his head, then the creak of shoe leather and Don's voice in his ear. "David?"

"What?" David's voice was muffled.

"Megan's going to stay here with you. I've got to hand off control to the Coasties. I'll be back in a few minutes. Do exactly as Tim tells you, all right?"

David nodded.

Don's footsteps retreated and were replaced by someone with a lighter tread and the scent of White Linen.

"Megan..." David started to say.

"It's okay. You just sit. You'll be fine."

Her hand rubbed across his back and he relaxed a little. He heard snatches of conversation from her and Tim.

"I thought he looked bad…What happened...Found him first...started CPR..."

"He made it this far...had him sit before he got further..."

"Your arm?"

"Not skinny enough to fit behind the pole."

David almost laughed on that one.

He felt Tim's fingers on his wrist again, and then Tim said, "Okay, David, very slowly, you can lift your head."

David did and he didn't feel like he wanted to puke any more. He took in Tim's concerned look and Megan's worried gaze and gave them both a half-hearted smile.

"You feelin' better, Sinclair?" Tim asked.

David nodded. He moved to stand but Tim wouldn't let him.

"Uh-huh. There's no way you're getting up right now. You're going to sit there until I say further."

David scowled. //_This is the day from Hell_.//

Megan kept a firm grip on his shoulder and looked at him. "I know you heard what Don said."

David sighed. He had but...

A few minutes later, Don reappeared, looking..._pissed_ was the only word David could think of.

He looked down at David, then at Tim. "How is he?"

"He's been hangin' around you too long, Eppes, he was going to get up and go just now."

Don frowned and crouched down in front of David. "Man..." He shook his head. "Can he walk?" He asked Tim. "Or should we get transport from the Port Police?"

Tim checked David's pulse again before nodding. "You can get up now but slowly."

"Finally." David muttered. With Megan on one side and Don on the other he climbed to his feet and didn't feel like he was going to fall over.

"The boat's over there, David." Don said, pointing out a small patrol trawler-with-attitude on the port side of the freighter. "You gonna be able to get down the ladder, okay?"

"I'm not unconscious, Don." He snapped.

"But you almost were." Don shot back. "Be happy I don't slap your ass on the Port Police helio with Tim here."

David shut up.

"I'll go with David." Megan said, ever the peacemaker.

"I'll be right there." Don replied.

//_This is just fucking wonderful_.// David thought, moving slowly to the side of the ship. //_I faint over some gawddamn fucking traitor_.// But as he reached the side and prepared to climb down, a little voice whispered in his ear _Are you __sure__, he's a traitor?_ And he stumbled.

Megan caught him and looked at him.

He pulled his arm away from her. "I'm fine," he muttered.

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England." she said.

Slowly, slowly, he made his way down the ladder then sank into one of the seats on the boat. He put his head in his hands and tried to get the images out of his head. But they wouldn't go away. Colby slumped in the chair, the needle sticking out of him, no pulse, not breathing... Colby slumped in the chair, the needle...

He must have made some noise for Megan put her hand on his shoulder. "David, just relax, if you can..."

He snorted. //_Relax, yeah right_.//

The sound of feet against the ship's side, then the boat rocking gently, signaled Don's arrival.

David sat up and saw Don looking at him and he shut his eyes, letting the ocean breeze again blow across his face. All he wanted to was to get back on dry land. 


	4. Chapter 4  Semper Paratus

**Part Four –****"**_**Semper Paratus – Always Ready**_**"**

They had been dispatched to assist and stand by on a FBI led boarding party on a foreign flagged cargo ship that was hauling knots to make it beyond the contiguous line, but the Port Police had caught up to the fleeing ship before they could reach it. The law enforcement officers on the deck had radioed off the USCG Sea Rescue helicopter, but after a tense ten minute wait, had called them back in requesting medical assistance. The Chief Petty Officer on board pulled rank and sent the lowest ranked member of the two-man medical team down to the ship and waited. Radio contact with PO3 Lewis after that, had been sporadic.

Her first patient had been the medic the FBI Hostage Rescue Team had brought with them, a not so simple GSW to the upper left arm that, according to Lewis' basic assessment was badly broken. She'd gotten pulled away from that patient by another FBI agent who had a "man down, CPR in progress – I'll get back to you." Then silence until the young woman called for the winch lines to be lowered to the deck so she could load up a critical.

Chief Petty Officer Tristan DeCuna was waiting in the hatchway, when PO3 Jessica Lewis appeared, balanced precariously on the Stokes rescue basket. "What'cha got, Jessie?" He helped guide the rescue device in through the side door out of the rotor wash and pushed it toward the built in stretcher receiver.

Jessica jumped off the litter and helped swing the basket into the locks. "35 year old male, chemically induced heart attack. Found unconscious, no pulse, four minutes ago. CPR started by FBI agents on the scene, beat recovered just as I arrived." She shook her head. "Tris, I'm pretty sure this guy's an Agent and that he was tortured. The common room I found him in was littered with all sorts of syringes, drug vials and other stuff that just about made me ill."

Tristan shook his head. "Damn." Jessica might be 'just' a lowly Petty Officer 3rd Class, but this wasn't her first assignment. It wasn't even close. For her to admit to being sick over something…he shook his head as he started a large bore IV and hooked normal saline up to the lines. If Jessica was right, flushing the man's system was the best option, that and _not_ giving any other drugs until labs could be run. "How long ago was the heart attack induced, anyone know? Or what might have been used?"

"Agent on the boat said it might have been Potassium chloride and they're pretty sure they got to the patient before a minute had passed." She moved around to the end of the basket, and Tristan was thankful she was petite enough to maneuver without too many contortions or stepping on the patient. A second IV was needed on the other arm and he just couldn't reach it without moving the patient or, worse, leaning on him. But she could, if she climbed over the patient by using the edges of the rescue basket.

"I'm glad you can do that." Tristan watching her maneuver her way back over the patient. "Potassium chloride, damn."

"Yeah, bitch to treat as the body produces a form of potassium naturally after a cardiac arrest." Jessica agreed with his statement and showed him she had been studying her advanced paramedic manuals at the same time.

He thumbed the man's eyes open and checked for pupil response. "Pupils respond to light."

While Jessica established the second IV, he affixed the EKG leads on the patient's chest and connected them to the machine. Watching the screen for a moment, Tristan got a real bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Looking back over his shoulder, he called up to the pilot, "ETA?"

"6 minutes, one minute 'til we're in range for radio contact."

He shook his head. "Almost there..." He murmured to the unconscious patient. Just then the EKG monitor howled and Tris turned to see the lines go flat. "DAMN!" He reached up to grab the defibulator even as Jessie started compressions without being told.

The gel pads were handy and he only had to cut open the shirt the patient was wearing to apply them, as Jessica never missed a beat in her compression count. She hit thirty compressions in eighteen seconds and Tristan checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

"Damn it! No!" He pulled her off the basket, grabbed the paddles and applied them at 300jules. "CLEAR!"

The man's body jumped as the power flowed though the two contact points but the EKG monitor still howled its flat tone in the background. "Damn it, I'm _not_ losing you!" He cranked the dial up to 500jules. "CLEAR!"

Once more the body twitched as even more current flowed through the muscles and bones.

beep beep beep

"YES! Thank you!" Tristan put the paddles up, but left the gel pads in place - just in case. Reaching out, Jessica handed him the radiophone and he called the hospital. "UCLA Actual, CeeGeeRescue One-One."

* * *

Scorching pain radiating through his chest roughly dragged Colby back to consciousness. His lips tried to form the words to repeat what he had told Lancer again and again but he couldn't get the words out.

He couldn't get any words out. His eyes darted around, his mind trying to process what had happened, where he was. But again, he couldn't.

It was like his mind was wrapped in cotton. Too many sounds invaded his ears, the heavy 'whup, whup, whup' of a helicopter, the chatter of a man talking or was it a woman? But he couldn't hear Dwayne and that was weird, he could ALWAYS hear Dwayne.

The noise of blades hitting the air echoed through his body, strange that he could feel the noise, and he finally realized what the sound meant.

//_Medivac_.//

He closed his eyes and let unconsciousness claim him again.

* * *

A/N - Thanks go to Prophet144 for pointing out a ''d'uh'' moment for this former CNA ... jules, not jewels. Correction made. :)


	5. Chapter 5  It Helps To Have Family

**Part Five -****It Helps to Have Family **

"Hello."

_"Dad? I need a really big favor from you." _

Alan frowned. Donnie didn't sound at all happy. Whatever had happened with Colby had not gone well apparently. "Of course, what do you need?"

_"Colby's being airlifted to UCLA. Could you go down there and sit with him? At least until Gigi gets there?" _

"I'm on my way." Alan did not ask what had happened or, if Colby was still considered a traitor, why Don would be getting the man's father. He would learn the answers to those questions if he was meant to know.

_"I've called ahead and they know you're coming. Just show your i.d."_ Donnie sounded so very, very tired.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Alan looked at the mantelpiece clock and winced. 5:00 straight up. Traffic was going to be beyond obscene.

_"Thanks again, Dad."_ Don hung up before Alan could say anything else.

His newspaper forgotten, Alan rose from his chair, collected his keys and scribbled a note to Charlie. He was already plotting the fastest route to the hospital as he walked to his car.

* * *

He didn't want to open his eyes. If he did and if he saw Mason still standing over him with that needle...he would have to do something drastic. Like bite his tongue in half. The fire ants infesting his skin, biting and chewing on his muscles, their tiny pincers clawing into his eyes were becoming too much. He was _this_ close to screaming.

He had managed, so far, not to give the son of a bitch the satisfaction of hearing him say anything Colby James Granger didn't want to say. It took more will power than he'd ever thought it would. A smile crossed his lips before he realized how much it hurt. It was so nice to remember how pissed Mason looked when he realized his _interrogation techniques_ weren't working.

//_Guess Dwayne never told Mason I'd been Special Forces and damn near recruited by a very special_—// He closed off that thought. He wasn't even supposed to THINK about The Unit.

The ants quit gnawing on his body for a moment and Colby realized he wasn't strapped in a chair anymore. //_What the hell? What new trick is this_?//

Rule Number One in Prisoner Interrogation - Do Whatever It Takes To Disorient Them. Laying on a soft surface about now would come damn close to breaking anyone, including him. Taking a chance, he barely opened his eyes, the need to know where the hell he was and what the bloody blazes was going on now was too strong. The light was overly bright and slammed into his skull through barely parted lids like a physical force.

"Colby? Are you waking up?"

//_What the FUCK? What is Alan Eppes doing here_?//

"Colby, you're safe. You're at UCLA Medical Center. Relax, if you can, I'm not going anywhere, son. Not until Gigi gets here and kicks me out."

Colby forced his eyes open a little further, if Mason had brought Alan into this, he was truly damned. Don and Charlie would never forgive him - hell, he'd never forgive himself. The world beyond his aching eyes was white, sterile and that's when his nose smelled all the antiseptic odors beyond the fresh smell of oxygen.

He moved his head, spotting a very worried Alan standing over him, felt the oxygen - clean and clear - wafting over his mouth and nose under a mask. "Safe?" His voice broke.

"Yes, you're safe, son."

"'kay." He closed his eyes and tried to hold back the flood. But what Mason Lancer hadn't been able to do, Alan Eppes had accomplished, though he'd probably never guess. Colby felt the wall he'd built up about his soul crumble and tried to hold the tears of relief back, but his power to stop them was gone. He didn't sob, he didn't cry out loud, but the tears traced warm, wet trails down his face to drip onto his pillow.

"Shush, CeeJay...it's all right. You're safe. You're going to be okay."

The brush of a hand on his forehead completed the process and the final bastion of will turned to dust, even as he finally quit fighting the exhaustion pulling him down below the surface of never-ending darkness.


	6. Missing Scene 1  Bonus for 2 Years

**Missing Scene – 2 Years 65 Days 2 Many - Agent Granger Arrives At The ER**

_Posting this as a supplement due to the shortness of a couple of chapters recently. Standard Disclaimers from Part One still in effect._

_Rating is still PG – yes, cops cuss. Some are worse than sailors, but not by much…._

* * *

A sharp pain in his arm dragged Colby back to consciousness.

//_What the...? Where am I? Where's_...//

The cacophony of noise made it impossible to think. Too much noise, too much confusion, too many voices he couldn't identify. All he could be certain of at that moment was he was cold and he ached all  
over. He cracked his eyes open, desperate to know where he was and immediately regretted it. Not only was it too loud where he was, it was too bright. Was this some new torture Lancer had come up with?

Another sharp pain radiated up his arm, making him cry out. Wasn't this ever going to end?

"Agent Granger?" A female voice rose out of the miasma of noise. "Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can." Something soft and warm slipped between his fingers sending new frissons of pain skittering  
across his hand. "Squeeze my hand."

Telling his fingers to obey was difficult, it hurt, but he managed. Maybe the voice could tell him where he was too.

"Dr. Greider? He's awake." The voice said.

//_Doctor?_//

"He is? Good." A male voice replaced the female one. "Agent Granger? Can you look at me? I'm Dr. Greider, you're at UCLA Medical Center."

//_UCLA_?//

Colby cracked his eyes open a millimeter more and froze. It wasn't a doctor talking to him, it was Lancer! A cross between a moan and whimper came out of him escaped him before he regained his control over his body. He tried to move, to get away from his torturer, but couldn't.

"Agent Granger, just relax. You're going to be okay. Just relax." 'Lancer' said.

//_I'm not saying anything! I'm not telling you a damn thing_!//

Colby continued to struggle to move, to try and get away from his tormentor, dimly aware of a beeping noise growing louder in the background. Then, before his eyes, Lancer was gone, replaced by a scarecrow with bright red hair.

"Agent Granger..." the female voice was back. "It's okay. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you." A hand brushed his forehead, bringing another moan from him.

//_Safe? Safe!? With Lancer standing there?_!//

Wild-eyed, Colby looked around the tiny room he was in. Two women and the scarecrow were watching him, closely. //_Who are you?! You workin' for Lancer?_// It was getting harder for him to breathe. //_What kind of drugs did he shoot me up with now?_!//

Movement out of the corner of his eye got Colby's attention. Lancer was back! Another whimper came out.

"You can go now, Dr. Coolidge." A male voice said, close to Colby's ear.

//_Wha? That doesn't sound like Lancer_.//

"Agent Granger? I'm Dr. Vernacke. Can you look at me?"

//_Another one? WTF?_//

"Agent Granger? If you can, I need you to look at me." Dr. Vernacke told him.

Resigning himself to his fate, Colby slowly swung his gaze around to look at the man standing over him and frowned. That sure as Hell wasn't Lancer, not in a shirt with hula girls on it.

"Do you know where you are?" Dr. Vernacke asked.

Colby shook his head. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. He was so damn tired.

"You're at UCLA Medical Center, in the ER."

//_I'm in a hospital? WTF?_//

"I'm going to check your eyes with a penlight. It'll take just moment."

A bright light stabbed first one eye, then the other, sending shooting pain to the back of Colby's head and he reacted. Using what little strength he had, he swung his hand in Dr. Vernacke's general direction, almost like swatting at a fly.

//_What kind of hospital is this?_//

Something caught and held his hand, putting down by his side and holding it there.

//_Let me go_!//

He struggled to move his arm, he struggled to move period and then there was that beeping noise in the background again. His struggles were futile, he could barely move. The room started to loose focus. He shook his head. He wasn't giving in without a fight! Voices speaking in a language he couldn't understand swirled above his head. Then something cold started climbing up his arm and...and...he didn't care any more. He gratefully surrendered to the encroaching darkness.


	7. Chapter 6 A Questionable Story

**Part Six - A Questionable Story!? **

If it had been bad on the freighter, it was even worse back at the Federal Building. Don had barely stepped off the elevator when two totally different people set him upon. One, a tall, brunette, very attractive woman, was the secretary to Director Hoffman, Don's bosses boss. The other person, a man about Don's age and height with dark brown hair, well, Don hadn't a clue as to who he was.

Motioning for David and Megan to go on without him, he faced the Director Hoffman's secretary first. "He's pretty ticked, isn't he?"

Andrea Helmerich crossed her arms and gave Don a _look_. "Agent Eppes, would I be standing down here if he wasn't?"

Don sighed, clutching the digital recorder even tighter. "I'll be up there in a couple of minutes." He wanted to check on David one more time before getting fired.

Andrea shook her head. "Director Hoffman was quite specific. I was to wait for you and then make sure you came upstairs immediately."

Don winced. Oh, well, he had no regrets. He waved at the elevator bank. "Ladies first."

The man, now standing behind him, cleared his throat and said "Before you go Agent Eppes, a moment of your time?"

Don turned and glared at the man. "And you are?"

"John Richardson, Accounting. I need a clarification on an expense report filed on March 14th of this year."

The glare turned to a frown. Was this guy for real? "Now is not a good time." Don said, struggling to be civil.

"Well, when would be a good time? The reports have to be submitted by the end of this quarter in order to be reimbursed by Treasury."

Don lost it, right there, in front of everyone on the floor. "Look, I've got one agent on the way to the hospital in critical condition, I've got another who just about passed out at the scene, I've got a third who's on the verge of quitting, for the second time in less than two months. I hung up on the Director a little while back and now I get to go upstairs and explain myself to him. So unless the gawd damn building is burning down, or Los Angeles is about to get fucking nuked, I just don't care what your little problems are."

The elevator arrived at that moment, saving Richardson from getting the rest of his head bitten off. The trip to the Director's office was the shortest in Don's memory. Frankly, at that point, he didn't care any more; he just wanted to get the yelling over with so he could get on with finding another job.

When he arrived at the Director's office, Andrea showed him to the main conference room, not Director Hoffman's main office and he felt his sprits drop even farther, if that was possible. There was only one reason, the Director would be waiting for him in there and it wasn't a good one. Director Hoffman was not alone in waiting for him. Assistant Director of Agents Wright was also there. On the video screen behind the two men were Director Atwater, the head of the entire Federal Bureau of Investigation, and a woman Don had never seen.

He looked at the assembled group and thought //_I have no regrets_.//

"Agent Eppes, you have to know why you're here." Director Hoffman spoke first. Tall and skinny with light blonde, almost white hair, his sea blue eyes nailed Don to the spot and held him there.

Don nodded.

"And while I applaud your loyalty to the men under your command, I can not approve of your tactics, especially for someone with such a questionable story."

"Questionable?!" Don hooked the digital recorder up to a computer in the room and hit play. "Watch that and then tell me how _questionable_ Agent Granger's story is."

Don couldn't sit through the play back another time and left the room. If they wanted to fire his ass for that, so be it. A few minutes later, an underling tracked Don down by the elevator. Returning to the Director's office, Don found Wright looking as ashy as David had when they'd found Colby and Director Hoffman leaning over a trashcan. The woman on the video screen, however, just looked royally pissed.

It was the woman who spoke first. "Agent Eppes, thank you for coming back. Tell me, how is Agent Granger now?" Her tone was cool, almost cold, but there was genuine concern in her eyes that Don responded to.

"I don't know."

"When you find out, Agent Eppes, please call me. I've already told Director Atwater here that as far as the State Department and the POTUS are concerned, you and your team did nothing wrong."

Any other time, Don might have been surprised that the President was even mentioned but this time, he just nodded. "I know he was airlifted to UCLA Medical Center. I just haven't had the time to find out anything else."

"My bad manners are showing tonight ... Agent Eppes, I'm Alex Hamilton, Assistant Secretary of State, Bureau of East Asian and Pacific Affairs. You stirred up a hornet's nest but I, for one, thank you. I'm sure my counterparts over at Justice won't agree ... but to hell with them."

Don almost smiled. "So, there is some intelligence at State after all." The moment the words came out of his mouth, he almost regretted saying them.

"Yes, and most of the really smart ones have tits."

That got a laugh from Don. "I can see that."

Ms Hamilton stood up. "Gentlemen, I need to catch a flight. Agent Eppes, call me when you can update me on Granger's status. Day or night." She left the video pick up area, leaving Director Atwater alone on the screen.

Joseph Atwater leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the top of his desk. "Agent Eppes...while I don't agree with your tactics, I can't argue with your results. Right now, you and Agent Granger, the other members of your team as well, are golden. Not quite bullet proof, not with personal attention of POTUS, but nearly. But, knowing that, don't let me ever hear of you hanging up on a superior again. Got that?"

"Yes, sir." Don said. Atwater punched a button and the huge screen went blank. He turned around to face his immediate superior, Wright, and Director Hoffman.

//_Well, at least I can get job back in D.C_.//

Wright, at least, was smiling in a friendly way, but not so Hoffman could see.

It was Hoffman who spoke up first. "Agent Eppes...Don. I got word from the pilot of the jet, just before Atwater and Hamilton called, he's picked up the Grangers and has an ETA of 7:25pm local."

Don nodded, then frowned. "Grangers? I thought only Colby's father was coming."

"Not according to the pilot. He's got both a Catherine and a Gareth Granger on board."

Don chuckled. He couldn't help it. The last time Colby had been hospitalized only Gareth had come. He had managed to get Cat to stay in Cascade. Not this time. //_My, that must have been a conversation_.//

Hoffman nodded to both agents in front of him. "Wright, get Eppes out of my office so he can pick Agent Granger's parents up on time. And, Eppes? I expect a full and detailed report on events of the last twelve plus hours on my desk in two days."

Don nodded, thankful Hoffman was giving him 48 hours to get his story straight. He stopped by the computer he'd hooked the camera up to and pocketed it once more. He let ADA Wright precede him through the door and followed the older man out into the hall past Andrea, who was still there, working late due to the 'hornet's nest' HIS team had riled.

They reached the elevator before Wright spoke to him. "Eppes, do you know how many times I've wanted to hang up on our boss? You didn't even get in trouble. Congrats."

Don was startled at Wright's response, to say the least.

Wright let out a hearty laugh. "Oh don't look so shocked . . . I worked Major Crime in Detroit and Washington DC. I've been in your shoes and I haven't forgotten the temptation of telling your boss to go to hell and leave you alone to do the job." He clasped Don on the shoulder.

Don smiled. "It was just one more thing I didn't need to deal with."

"I hear you." Wright pointed at the camera in Don's hand. "Make sure the techies duplicate that tape and, as much as I don't want to ever see that again, make sure I get a copy. Make that three."

Don nodded. "Yes, sir. I will." He looked down at his watch. It was close to six.

"Go! It wouldn't do for the boss of their son to be late picking up the Grangers."

"Thank you, sir." And off Don went, down the stairs, leaving his boss to look after him.


	8. Chapter 7 In Which Secrets R Revealed

**Part Seven - In**** Which Secrets Are Revealed **

Don jerked the Suburban to a stop and climbed from, grabbing the suit jacket he'd found that actually fit. It would cover the state of his shirt and, maybe, his rather potent body odor too. The Gulfstream V pulled up to the hanger doors, following the directional signals from the ground crew. He shut his eyes for a moment and corralled his emotions. This was the sort of trip no LEO ever wanted to take.

The engines whined down to a stop and shortly, the door was opened and steps were lowered to the ground. He took a deep breath, released and went to meet the Grangers.

Gareth was first out of the plane. On his arm was a woman who had to be Colby's mother. Carefully, he made his way down the steps.

Don reached them just as they reached the bottom. He held out a hand for Colby's mother to grip. "Mrs. Granger...take my hand, please."

"You must be Don--" Her grip on his hand was like iron. So much strength from such a small woman. "Gigi and CeeJay have described you perfectly." She pulled on his hand, forcing him to lean in close as she whispered." My son could never be a traitor."

He swallowed. "No, ma'am. He couldn't."

"Then how could you arrest him?"

"Catherine--" Gareth's voice carried a hint of warning.

"It's all right, Gigi." Don said. He looked into eyes that so mirrored Colby's and said, "I did it based on the evidence at hand. I can tell you it brought me no pleasure."

"But what did your _gut_ tell you, Agent?" She was like a dog with a bone, Don knew she wouldn't rest until she had raked him over the coals and he deserved it.

A smile glimmered on the edge of Don's lips. "I can't take my gut into court, Mrs. Granger. And I'd do it again, if I had to." He guided them to the Suburban.

"Catherine, I've told you, Colby did what he had to do, up to and including lying to Don when he was arrested." Gareth helped his wife to climb into the front passenger seat.

"Do NOT talk to me about that, Gareth Grant. I'm still not pleased with you over your lie by omission."

Don went around to the driver's side and climbed in. He tossed aside the idea of even thinking of mouthing platitudes about 'service to the country' and 'he was serving a greater good'. He felt certain that if he did, he'd get slapped, and hard, by Colby's mother. He waited to make sure Gareth was belted in before putting turning over the engine. He put the Suburban in gear and pulled away from the hanger.

"If the traffic cooperates, we should be there in about 20 minutes." Don said, maneuvering his way to the entrance of the airstrip. He had thought about flipping on the lights and sirens but decided against it. Colby's mother would undoubtedly think her son was dying if he did that.

"Don, tell us, what exactly happened?" Gareth's voice drifted up from the backseat.

Don swallowed again. He pulled out onto the road and turned left. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. What was he going to say? '_Your son was tortured because I didn't trust him?_'

He jumped when Catherine's hand touched his where it rested on the between seat console. "Agent Eppes, Don. . .I need to know the truth, no matter how ugly it might be."

Don took his eyes off the road long enough to meet Cat's. He nodded and started in on the long ugly story, leaving out things that no one else ever need know, like the taping of the torture or that Colby's heart had stopped, again, on the way to the hospital.

He talked and drove and prayed that he wouldn't miss an exit because he wasn't really paying attention to the road that much. He finished before he reached the proper exit and, once again, Mrs. Granger's hand found his.

"Don, thank you. Once I see CeeJay, I'll want to talk to you again - in private." He heard her twist in the seat. "I mean it, Gareth - I want to talk to him alone."

"Yes, Cat."

Don nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Granger."

"Please...You say 'Mrs. Granger' and I start wondering where Gigi's mother is. Try Cat, or if that's too familiar, Catherine."

"Yes, ma'am." Don said. The exit for UCLA Medical Center loomed up from Interstate 405 South, a giant Blue H with an arrow pointing off to the right, showing the way. Don took the exit, casting a quick glance at Cat. Her face was expressionless. //_Now I know where Colby gets the poker face from_.//

He tried to catch a look at Gigi but with twilight rapidly descending, he couldn't get much from the rearview mirror and gave up. He needed to focus the myriad of lefts and rights he needed to take. Finally, he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. He drove around to the front entrance, put the Suburban in park and opened the door. He came around to the passenger side and opened the door for Cat.

He held out his arm and said, "Take my arm."

"Your parents raised you right." Catherine complimented him.

A glimmer of a smile ghosted across Don's face. "Yes, ma'am." He helped her down the step and waited for Gareth to come around from the driver's side. Catherine Granger's pace wasn't slow, but it wasn't fast either. Don also noticed that she wasn't quite standing up straight and he wondered about it. She must have seen the question on his face for she patted his arm as she reached out to Gareth and now had support on two sides.

"Arthritis of the spine, Don. Makes life...interesting at times."

Don nodded. He was already getting twinges in his knees and elbows.

Gareth noticed Don had left Suburban running, "Don, we'll wait for you while you go park."

Don turned around and noticed that. "Oh, yeah. I'll be right back." He found a spot for Law Enforcement Only, parked and cursed his luck. He had been hoping to avoid seeing the Grangers reunited with their son, but clearly they had other plans. It occurred to him to just leave but he hadn't been raised to run from anything and he wasn't about to start now. Gareth and Cat were waiting exactly where he had left them. He again offered his arm to Cat.

The ride up to the Critical Care Unit was, to put it mildly, tense. However soon they were in the unit and Don escorted Gareth and Catherine to the room he knew Colby had been moved to. Through the window, the younger man could be seen to be sleeping, with an oxygen mask covering part of his face. There were bruises on his chest, probably from the CPR rather than anything Lancer had done to him, but...other than that, there were no outwardly visible signs of the torture Colby had gone through.

His father, Alan Eppes, sat in a chair in the corner of the room with his nose buried in a newspaper.

It was like a kick in the gut to see his agent like that. "Gigi, Cat..." Don started to say.

"Don't leave." Catherine practically ordered as she stepped into the room. She walked over to her son's side, placed a hand on his face, then his chest - as if reassuring herself his heart was still beating, then she came back out. "Gigi, I'll be right back. Don, we need to talk."

Don looked down at Cat Granger. She barely came up to his shoulder; he could just turn and walk away. She couldn't stop him. Physically, anyway. But, instead of leaving, he nodded. "Yes, ma'am. We went past a waiting room." He told her.

"That's perfect. Let's go." She grabbed up his arm and he found himself being damn near dragged by a woman who, until a few seconds ago, didn't look strong enough or steady enough to pull a feather.

He followed her down the hallway to the small room located near the elevator. Cat walked in with Don following.

"Lock the door, will you?"

Don's stomach sank into his shoes but he shut and locked the door to the small room behind him.

Catherine was smiling and shaking her head when he turned back around to face her. "Don, you look scared to death. I'm unarmed, darn near 65 and arthritic. What on earth are you afraid of?"

Don smiled, relaxing just a tiny bit. "Mothers are powerful force to be reckoned with. My mother could be holy terror when she needed to be."

"I'm not going to do anything other than tell you why I know Colby would never sell out his country." She sat down on a couch and patted the cushion beside her. "Please? Sit with me?"

He nodded and sat down next to her.

"What I'm about to tell you, not even Gareth knows the full story. Colby does, but only because he asked me about my father the year after he graduated from Quantico." She sat back, her hands on her lap.

"Your father?" Don asked. "Colby doesn't talk about his family that much. I know about you and your husband and his siblings but it's taken a while to get that much from him."

"After World War Two, my family moved to Japan. My father was in the Army and was stationed there as part of the occupation. But there was more to it." She looked him in the eyes, her hazel eyes even more like Colby's at this moment than they had been before. "Robert Larsen, my father, was military intelligence. He worked with Wild Bill Donovan."

Don's eyebrows went up. "_The_ Wild Bill Donovan?"

"Yes, William Donovan, the head of OSS that became the CIA."

Don blew out a breath.

"My brother, Colby's uncle Stephen, followed my father's footsteps right into The Company. One of the stars on the wall is his, I just don't know which one."

"You've never been there? To Langley?"

"I've been there, I've even asked, but no one knows which star belongs to which agent who died. I don't even know where Stephen died or why or even if he completed his mission."

He nodded. Something stirred in the back of his mind that he had heard about the wall of stars during his time at Quantico. "I'm sorry for your loss." Okay, that sounded trite even to his ears. //_You're losing it, Eppes_.//

"Thank you, but I'm okay with it - now - but there's more." She reached out and laid a hand on his leg. "Colby's Uncle, Grandfather, great Grandfather and even his twice great grandfather on my side of the family have all been involved in Intelligence. From spying behind enemy lines in WWI all the way back to working for the royal family in Sweden as information brokers during the Thirty Years War."

Don's eyebrows went up again. "Sweden?"

"My family is distantly related to King Gustav Aldolf. It's complicated. But ever since the family moved to the USA in the early 1800's, we've been dead loyal to our country of choice."

Don nodded. He was beginning to see where Cat was going with this her tale, which made him feel even worse.

"A few of those intelligence gatherers worked, or seemed to work, both sides of the lines. I'm not bragging here but my family can lie real good when the cause is right. But we can't lie to each other. When Colby asked about my father, I knew."

"Knew what?"

She clasped his hand in hers. "I knew he'd gotten into the spy business and would do whatever it took to fulfill his mission." Her eyes bored into his. "Tell me the truth, Don, how close was it?"

Don looked at Cat and wrestled with the answer. He licked his lips and said, "Colby's a tough sonovabitch, they threw everything they had at him and he didn't crack."

"The full truth, Don."

"Catherine, Cat, it's bad enough that I have deal with that knowledge, I'm not going to burden you with it."

She nodded and released his hand. "Thank you."

"Thank you? For what?" //_For nearly getting your son killed_?//

"For believing in my son enough to perform CPR." She stood up, leaned over and kissed Don on the cheek. "Even if you'll never admit it to him or anyone else, I know he died and you, maybe someone else with you, brought him back to me." Catherine walked over to the door, slid the bolt back over and walked out.

Don stared at the door, open-mouthed. How in the Hell did she...?

He stood and walked over to the door, watching her make her slow way back to her son. The quiet strength he'd seen Granger display on the tape, the absolute refusal to give Lancer what he wanted, the strength Don had assumed had come from Gigi . . . was embodied in the woman who'd just left the small waiting room. Don sat down again. A little too much, a little too quick and he needed to pull himself back together before going back to join them.

* * *

"This is twice now you've been to L.A. for a reason no father wants to think about." Alan said to Gareth after Cat had left with Don in tow.

"What'cha gonna do, Alan? Tell him he needs a safer job?" Gareth replied.

"No. Do that and you're likely to chase him into a part of the FBI you really wouldn't like. At least Donnie was able to get out of it, eventually." Alan appeared to be speaking from experience.

Gareth's eyebrows went up. "Fugitive Retrieval?"

"Donnie called it 'rabbit hunting.' I and his mother called it 'a nightmare'."

Gareth eased down into the nearest chair. "How long?"

"Too long." Alan also sat down. "His first assignments were probably pretty standard field office things. Then he helped out a chase team and the next thing Margaret and I knew, he's in Fugitive Recovery/Retrieval for nearly four years. We wouldn't hear a word from him for MONTHS at a time."

Gareth shook his head. "When CeeJay was in the Army, we went through almost the same thing. Well, maybe not quite as bad. He'd at least attempt to call once a week. Of course, that 'once a week' often stretched into three, four weeks."

Alan nodded. "It's not easy letting them out of our sight . . . but we have to. Of course, it would be nice if they'd repay us with a grandchild or two."

Gareth chuckled. "CeeJay hears that from Cat every chance she gets."

"You think I let my boys get away with not hearing it? I must drop a hint on both of them at least once a week."

"CeeJay and his older brother Cody are our only hope for grandkids."

"What about the other two? Oh --- married to their jobs?"

Gareth nodded. "Cliff's a squid and doesn't want any squidletts. Lars is a confirmed bachelor. Of course, it doesn't help that he lives in an area where the men outnumber the women two to one."

"Well, unless Cliff's on one of the ships, boats-whatever they call 'em, that the Navy doesn't allow women on ..." Alan smiled, hoping Gareth would understand. "At least there's still a slight hope in that direction. Not much of one, but maybe a little."

Gareth shook his head. "Cliff has made it clear that he's not going to drag a family around the world because of his job. Cat tried that already."

"Oh. Well, at least he has a good excuse. Donnie tried the whole, 'it's kinda hard to come home and answer the 'how was your day' question when you see the things I see' routine."

Gareth snorted. "He actually thought that would work?"

"Yeah, and it probably did. For a while." Alan leaned forward, "He's dating a rather nice agent from another department now."

"Really? Excellent." Gareth paused then added, "He's not her boss or anything like that?"

"No . . . to be honest, I'm not sure how their department's relate to each other, but I am pretty sure Donnie wouldn't cross that line."

Gareth nodded. "I think so too. What about Charlie? Is he seeing anyone? Any hope there?"

"Oooh, yes. Finally! Dr. Amita Ramanujan - a fellow mathematician and professor at CalSci. Charlie doesn't think I know, but he gave her a house key."

Gareth chuckled. "And you learned this when?"

"When the locksmith called to tell him the spare was ready."

Gareth laughed.

"That's just evil..." Colby's voice, rather quiet and very muffled, managed to break through his father's soft chuckles.

"Son?" Gareth stood up and went over to Colby's side.

"Dad?" Colby's eyes wandered, a look of panic crossing his face. "Where's Alan? Did I hear Alan?"

"Right here, Colby." Alan stood up so Colby could see him. "See? I told you I'd stay until your dad showed up."

Colby's eyes latched on to Alan's face and frame. "Real?"

Alan nodded his head. "He's real. Your mom's here too."

"You're all real? Not..." Colby reached out and his hand, with a weaker than normal grasp, locked onto Gareth's wrist. "REAL." His eyes closed, his face relaxed out of the near-panicked expression, but his hold on Gareth didn't relax.

"CeeJay?" Gareth covered his son's hand with his own. "We're here. We're not going anywhere."

"I think you're stuck there for a while, Gigi." Alan brought a taller chair over so Colby's father could sit down and not pull his wrist from his son's grasp. "Sit, I'll explain what little I've been able to find out from the doctors."

Gareth nodded. It disturbed more than he could put into words at his boy's near panic when waking. What in the blazin' hell had been done to him? It was a good thing that Cat was off talking to Don or she'd likely have ripped his head off right there.

"I'm not too clear on the details, the docs are real careful about not telling non-family members anything, but if you listen you can pick up things."

"Tell me."

Alan rubbed his own wrist; the one Colby had hung on to while sleeping earlier. "Whatever was used on Colby . . . it caused, causes, hallucinations. There will be times when he's not going to be sure that what he's seeing is real or some sort of mental phantom."

Gareth cursed, using language he hadn't used since his time in 'Nam.

"Yeah, that's about how I felt too, Gigi. He may not be one of mine, but Colby's a friend, almost like another son to me."

Gareth blinked and blinked again. Hot tears of anger threatened to spill down his face. He nodded, not trusting his own voice at the moment.

"You raised a strong one, Gigi, you and your wife. Be happy that strength is what helped him pull through -whatever- it was and it's what will get him past this as well."

Gareth nodded. "All of our boys are troopers." He looked up at Alan. "Is the gawdamn son of a biscuit eater who did this dead?"

"That's what Don tells me."

"Good." He readjusted himself in the chair, making himself as comfortable as possible. "You're going to be fine Colby James. You will." He said to his son, his voice low.

"Of course he will, Gareth! He's got Larsen genes in him, as well as those stubborn Granger ones." Cat's voice sounded from the doorway, her talk with Don done.

Gareth looked up at his wife and smiled. He looked over at Alan. "Alan, I'd get up but..." Gareth gestured to Cat. "This is my wife, Catherine Granger. Cat, this is Alan Eppes, Don's father."

"Ah, you're Alan." She approached him and shook his hand, before pulling him into an embrace. "Thank you for sitting with CeeJay and letting Gigi stink up your home the LAST time he was in Los Angeles."

Alan, only mildly surprised, returned the hug. "You are more than welcome. As I was telling Gigi, Colby may not be mine but he is a close and personal friend. He didn't make that big of a mess any way. You've trained him well."

"Colby's always been one to find the best honorary Aunts and Uncles." She went around to the other side of her son's bed, taking in the tableau of her husband being trapped by Colby's hand and just shaking her head. "Of course, I'll have to wait until he's better to give him my thoughts on this escapade." She brushed his bearded jaw line with a feather-light finger. "This is not your best look, Colby James."

Colby stirred against his mother's touch but didn't wake up.

Cat turned back to look at Alan. "Alan, you might want to go check on Don . . . I left him in the waiting room out there."

"Cat - what did you do?" Gareth looked at his wife.

"Nothing too serious, Gigi." Cat replied, innocence personified.

Alan's eyebrows went up. "Is he in one piece?"

"Mostly. But I think I shocked him. I'm good at that. It's in my genetic code or some such rot."

Gareth chuckled. "You? Shock people? I'm stunned you would say such things." He gently needled his wife.

"Oh Gareth, you of all people know how I am ... after all, I was skyclad the first time you saw me."

Alan got the gist of what Cat was saying but swallowed the laugh. "I'm going to go and see if Donnie is in one piece. I'll be back. You're staying at the house. Charlie's cleaning. This should be interesting." And he left.

"Was it something I said?" Cat asked, innocence just dripping from her tongue.

Gareth rolled his eyes. "Now what would ever give you that idea?"


	9. Chapter 8 Are You Real?

**Part Eight - ****Are You Real? **

When Colby opened his eyes, he couldn't believe what he saw. The drugs Lancer had pumped into him were still making him hallucinate. That couldn't be his mother sitting there.

He blinked. She was still there. He blinked again. Still there.

"Mama?" he asked, praying that he wasn't seeing things.

"CeeJay? Baby? Can you hear me?" Cat stood up and was leaning over the bed. She took his hand in hers.

He winced at the contact; his mother's light touch felt like a ten-ton weight had dropped on his hand.

"Remember Cat, the drugs have got his senses all outta whack." He heard his father say.

//_What the hell_?//

"I know that Gareth, you don't need to remind me." She looked back at Colby. "CeeJay, honestly, I can't leave you alone for a moment can I?"

Colby blinked. Yeah, that was his mom, no doubt about it, even if she did sound like she was standing in the bottom of a well. "What're yu...yu doin' here?" His drugged voice sounded strange to his ears.

She quirked an eyebrow. "I haven't been to L.A. in ages. My son doesn't seem to remember to invite his mother down."

That got a smile out of Colby. His arm brushed against the bed railing, sending frissons of pain up his arm. //_Man, this is going to get old_.// "But yur back, Mom. The ride down 'ere..." He ran out of words.

"Now you listen, young man..." Cat very gently touched Colby's cheek with her fingertips. " I would come no matter what. You're my son and I worry about you."

Colby nodded and swallowed. His throat hurt. His eyes wandered past his mother to his father.

Gareth gave his son a lopsided smile. "This is getting to be a bad habit, son."

"Yeah, well…" He looked past his father, then around the room. "Alan went home?"

Gareth nodded. "Go back to sleep. We'll be here when you wake up in the morning."

Colby blinked and focused on his mother's face, a face that was slowly slipping out of focus. "I'm glad you came." He managed to get out before sleep claimed him yet again.

Cat blinked back her tears. Her boy would be fine. He would. He would if she had to stay there 24 hours a day until he left the hospital.

* * *

Night had long since fallen and visiting hours would be coming to an end shortly but Cat was steadfast in her refusal to leave Colby's side. Gareth had tried reasoning; cajoling and pleading but Cat would have none of it.

"You are more than welcome to go back to Alan's." She told Gareth, more than once. "I am staying here. My baby boy is not going to wake up wondering where his mother is."

Nine P.M., the end of visiting hours came and went. No one came and told them to leave. Nurses drifted in and out. Colby slept on. Then, about an hour later, a man dressed in a lab coat, khaki pants and a dark blue button down shirt came in the room. His head, full of curly, dark blonde hair, was bent over the chart in his hands. So engrossed in reading the chart was he, that he did not see either Gareth or Cat until he looked up. Startled, he looked down at his watch, then back up at the Grangers. Gareth offered him a smile and so did Cat but hers was not nearly as friendly.

The man shut the chart, smiled and held out his hand to both, shaking Gareth's hand first and then Cat's.

"You must be Agent Granger's parents. I'm Dr. Adam Mosely. I'll be your son's doctor until he's discharged. I'll confess that I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."

Before Cat could say anything, Gareth spoke up. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing quite well, actually, considering what he went through. The drugs are working their way out of his system; they should be gone completely in the next 48 hours. The after effects of the tubocurrae will around for a little longer but not by much."

"So, the hypersensitivity and the hallucinations will be gone in that time frame?" Gareth asked.

Dr. Mosely nodded. "They should. That's why he wearing a mask. The more oxygen he breathes in, the faster the drugs dissipate."

"When can we take him home?" Cat said, speaking for the first time. The men could talk all they want; she just wanted one answer to one question.

"If all goes well, this time next week." Dr. Mosely said. "Now, do you two have a place to stay? It's extremely unlikely that your son will wake up for more than a few minutes at a time, if he wakes up at all. This time would be the best time to go and get some rest. Visiting hours start at eight." His eyes moved from Gareth to Cat and back.

"We're staying with friends." Gareth said.

"I'm not leaving." Cat said.

They had both spoken at the same time.

Dr. Mosely nodded again, set the chart down on a nearby table and crouched down in front of Cat.

She was instantly on the defense. //_I am _not_ leaving my son_.//

"Mrs. Granger, I understand you wanting to stay with him but you're not going to do yourself or him any good by doing so. You've had, both of you, have had a long and stressful evening. You and your husband need to get some rest and be fully awake for him tomorrow."

Cat studied his earnest face, the dark green eyes, the tousled hair. He looked enough like the Cascade Postmaster to be his brother. He had kind eyes she decided but no matter. She was not going anywhere. "I appreciate your concern, Dr. Mosely but I am not leaving until Colby does."

Dr. Mosely looked up at Gareth, who nodded, then back down at Cat. "Mrs. Granger, I'm going to ask you to consider not only your health but that of your son's."

Cat stared at him, stone faced. Just what was Dr. Mosely implying?

"In your son's medical history it says you suffer from spinal arthritis, which is nothing to play with as you know."

Her eyes narrowed. Was he saying that she would put her well-being over CeeJay's?

"If you sleep in the chair you're sitting in, there is a very good chance that your entire back could seize up completely. What happens then? Do you really want to wind up in the hospital as well? Even if that doesn't happen, you'll be in terrific pain and your son will know that, no matter what drugs are still in his system. That knowledge will only slow down his recovery. Why? Because he'll be worried about you."

She scowled. Where did this young pup of a doctor get off saying she was putting CeeJay at risk? So what if her back was already twinging? Didn't he understand that if she left, she wouldn't be here if CeeJay woke up? That she would be abandoning him? She looked up at Gareth but he was no help.

"I agree with Dr. Mosely." He said.

"You would." She snapped.

"Mrs. Granger, please. I'm asking you not as a doctor but as a son to a mother, please take into consideration the effects your bad back might have on him."

Cat swallowed and looked at Colby, fast asleep, no more than two feet from her. She had almost lost him again today. She reached through the bars of the bed and laid her hand on his arm, warm and solid under her touch. How could anyone ask her to leave?

"Mrs. Granger, you do not leave on your own, I can have you escorted out. My concern for your son's health is paramount."

Cat heard _that _and snapped. "Well, it's a good thing _someone _is concerned for his health." She hissed. "Since _apparently _I'm putting it at risk."

Dr. Mosely regarded her with a tolerant look. Gareth settled a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. She opened her mouth to continue but was interrupted.

"Mom?" Colby's voice was muffled and weaker than normal but it was there.

She turned to see her son's blue-green eyes resting on her and her anger vanished. "Yes, baby?"

"Stop arguin' with the doc." He swallowed. "He knows what he's doing."

"Did we wake you?" Cat asked, her resolve melting under her son's slightly unfocused gaze.

"Kinda." Colby looked up at his father. "You stayin' with Charlie?"

Gareth nodded.

Colby looked back at his mother. "It's a nice house, Mom. You'll…" he swallowed again, "you'll like it."

Cat felt tears of shame prick her eyes. What was she doing? Making CeeJay talk her into leaving? What kind of mother was she?

"I'm not…" He paused for a moment. "goin' anywhere."

She looked at her son and saw the struggle he was waging to stay awake just to convince her to get some rest. The last of her resolve gone, she leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead. "All right, baby, I'll go."

Underneath the oxygen mask, she saw his lips quirk upward in a smile. "Good. See you in the morning." His task done, Colby drifted back to sleep.

Cat looked from Gareth to Dr. Mosely and back. "I'm going to be here when visiting hours start and not a minute later."

Dr. Mosely nodded, relief flooding his young, boyish face. He stood and moved out of her way.

It took her a few moments and some help from Gareth in order to get up from the chair. She tried not to wince, tried not to prove the doctor right but she failed. Her back _hurt _and there was no way around it.

She clung to Gareth's arm like it was a lifeline. Step by painful step she made it to the doorway. She heard Dr. Mosely take a breath behind her as if he was going to speak but she cut him off. "I will see you in the morning." She said, over her shoulder. Then she and Gareth were gone, for the moment.

* * *

When Colby next woke up, he wasn't really sure he was awake but he guessed he was. His eyes wandered around the room, spotting Tim Ryan the medic from the Alpha team of HRT standing just outside the glass wall.

//_Tim?_//

He tried to smile and failed, tried to wave but couldn't raise his arm, not that it really mattered anyway… before too long, Morpheus reclaimed him, pulling him back down into the welcoming darkness.


	10. Chapter 9 Nadine?

**Part Nine - Nadine? **

_"…and produces a sensation of near drowning…"_ Lancer's voice echoed through Colby's head, sending his overtaxed mind into hyper drive. He wasn't going to give the bastard what he wanted, even if it killed him.

His head tossed back and forth on the pillow, trying to escape the nightmare. His arms tensed against imaginary restraints. A droplet of water dripped onto his nose followed by another and another.

//_Wha? What? Water? What_?!//

He let out a moan and tried taking a breath but couldn't! Another droplet of water trickled down his nose.

//_Water_?!// Lancer was going to drown him! He couldn't breathe! He couldn't….

He snapped awake, dragging in lungfuls of dry air, his chest heaving from the effort. Wild eyed, his gaze darted around the darkened room. What was going on? Where was he? Where was Lancer? His breath caught and tendrils of fear snaked upward wrapping around him...Dimly, he heard footsteps.

//_Lancer_!// His mind screamed.

But it wasn't a man's voice he heard; it was a woman's.

//_What? What's going on_?//

"Agent Granger, just relax. Put the mask back on, you've got to keep breathing the oxygen." The voice cut through the haze caused by his out of whack senses. "You're okay. You're in a hospital." The voice kept talking to him, in a calm, reassuring tone.

"Just relax. You're okay." The voice kept talking.

Colby tried to calm his runaway mind. He blinked and forced himself to look at his surroundings. The face that belonged to the voice swam into view. He blinked again.

Dark brown hair, brown eyes, a kind smile.

"You're all right," she said.

It took a few moments for his brain to catch up with the rest of him and then it dawned on him that he really WASN'T drowning. He was in a hospital and--

"Nadine?" He hadn't realized that he had spoken aloud until he heard the sound of his own voice. Now, he was well and truly confused. What was his high school girlfriend doing there? Since when was she a nurse? The last he had hear Nadine was married, with kids, in Butte, Montana.

"Go back to sleep, you need to rest." She told him.

The nurse, he couldn't quite see her nametag, slipped the mask back on, the air tickling his nose, bringing the fear back into his mind. He tensed and reached up to take off the mask again. He wasn't going to drown! It had to be some trick! Nadine was in on it with Lancer!

But his hand was gently removed. "Agent Granger, the mask HAS to stay on. Nothing's going to happen...you trust me?" She asked, smiling.

He blinked...he had trusted Nadine. Always.

He nodded slowly.

"You've got to keep the mask on. Okay?"

He nodded again. Nadine wouldn't lie to him.

"The mask is one of the ways we're using to flush the drugs out of your system." She told him.

//_Drugs? What was Nadine going on about? If his dad caught him with drugs, he was a dead man_!//

Panic flared temporarily in him and he started to sit up.

Gently, he was made to lie down. "Relax, Agent Granger. You're going to be fine."

//_Nadine? Wha...? What...? Are you trying to get me into trouble_?//

"Go back to sleep. I'm going to be right outside. Can you do that for me?"

His eyelids drooped.

"I'm going to be right outside."

He nodded and dropped off to sleep.

* * *

_**dream sequence**_

_"Granger!"_

_Colby's head snapped up so fast at the sound of Coach Courtney's voice, he all but cracked his head on the weight machine._

_"What on Earth...?" Coach Courtney, tall and skinny, with a thatch of red hair, stood over him and Nadine, glowering._

_"Uh...uh...Coach...it's...it's..." Colby stumbled over the words. He tried to keep his wrestling coach from seeing Nadine and her state of undress but he failed and miserably._

_Coach Courtney crossed his arms across his chest and said, "If you say it's not what you think, today was your last day on the team"_

_Colby's shoulders drooped. "Okay, it is what you think."_

_"Lord, son, at least you're honest." He held out his hand to Nadine. "Miss Somners? Miss Biesel was looking for you." He said to Nadine. "Put your shirt on and button it up. You, too, Granger."_

_Nadine flushed and pulled on her shirt, hurriedly buttoning it up. Colby found his t-shirt draped over a set of weights and pulled it on. He was about to find out if it was possible to die from embarrassment. _

_"All right. March." Coach Courtney pointed toward the weight room door. "We're going to make a couple of phone calls." _

_Colby looked at his coach, panic washing over him. Forget dying from embarrassment, his mother would kill him! "You're not going to call my mom!"_

_"Nope, you are." Coach Courtney said. "You too, Miss Somners."_

_Nadine frowned. "Whatever…" she muttered. _

_**end dream sequence**_


	11. Chapter 10 Good Morning

_Sorry about delay in posting this part - FFN was NOT cooperating and it took forever for them to figure out they had a 'issue' with their programs. Suis_

**Part Ten - Good Morning **

Gareth looked at the travel clock he'd placed on the bedside stand when he felt Cat jostle the bed as she slowly climbed out of it. Rolling over, he glared at her in the semi-darkness of pre-dawn hour. "Damn, woman, it's just past zero-five-hundred hours, what are you doing up already? CeeJay's not going anywhere and visiting hours don't start until eight."

"Like that matters. You know it takes me a while to get moving in the mornings... and after what I put my body through yesterday - I do NOT want to hear it from you - I need a little extra wind-up time."

Gareth held up his hands in surrender. "Can I at least get something to eat?"

"I checked with the nurses yesterday, the cafeteria does a fine breakfast."

"Does it have a shower too?"

"Smart ass. You know better."

"Am I allowed to change my clothes?" Gareth threw the covers back and, after climbing out on his side of the mattress, went around to her side and helped his wife steady herself as she fought to straighten her spine.

"Please, do. Lord knows I'm going to change the minute I can move more than a few feet at a time."

Gareth wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close. "He'll be just fine. Remember what Dr. Mosely said okay? Please?"

Her arms snaked around his waist and held on tight. "I keep telling myself that, I do. However, part of me keeps screaming that I nearly lost my little boy. Not listening to that loud voice is not easy."

"I know, babe, I know. But you can only do so much."

She leaned into his shoulder, "I know ... but ... is it terrible of me to wish he'd already married and given us a grandchild or two BEFORE something like this happened?"

He laughed. "No, it's not so terrible but look at it this way. Would you want him doing this to his wife and children?"

"No." She untangled herself from her husband's embrace and managed to stand up. "Let's get moving, old fart. Our son is waiting for us and--" she cocked her head as his tummy rumbled "--someone needs to be fed."

"I thought you were going to wait to eat at the hospital." Gareth said, not able to resist the opening his wife just handed him.

"I was, I'm not sure your stomach can." She started to strip out of the oversized tee-shirt she used as sleepwear. "You know how grouchy you are if you don't at least get a cup or two of very strong coffee in you before 8 AM."

He grinned.

"Any idea of how we're getting to the hospital?"

"Cab. I don't want to infringe on the Eppes' hospitality any more than we have to." She tossed the shirt at him as she reached for a fresh - and smaller - tee from her bag. "And later this morning, see if you can arrange for a rental? I'm sure the agencies in the area will do drop-off service."

Gareth nodded. "Although the idea of driving in L.A. is not something I'd do willingly."

"Nor I. But I don't want to rely on the kindness of others the entire time we're here."

Gareth stood and kissed Cat on the cheek. "You've got a point, babe. I'm going to take a shower."

After getting dressed, Cat made her slow way down stairs, her VERY slow way downstairs. Between the unfamiliar bed and her worry about Colby, she had gotten next to no sleep, which had sent her back into a tango crossed with the mamba. She came into the kitchen, intent on finding a coffee pot so she could make some coffee for Gareth. When she saw Alan seated at the kitchen table, dressed for the day, she stumbled to a stop, unsure of what to do next.

"Oh, good morning, Cat. I thought I heard you and Gigi moving around upstairs but I didn't want to intrude." Alan stood when Cat came into the room, the newspaper, coffee cup and the remains of breakfast laid out before him.

"Alan... I hope we didn't wake you." Cat said.

"Not at all. I used to get up at this hour so I could make it to work on time. Force of habit now. May I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Some breakfast?"

Cat nodded. "Water for now." She rattled a pill bottle in her left hand. "Coffee later after I swallow my pharmacopia."

Alan retrieved a glass from the kitchen cabinet, filled it with water and set it in front of her.

"Gareth is taking a shower. He'll be down shortly." Cat finished taking her morning dosage of pills. "Alan, I can't thank you enough for letting us stay here."

"Cat...Catherine, I meant what I said last night. Colby may not be mine but he is very special to me and my family. Charlie would take it as a personal offense if you weren't staying here."

"I appreciate that. However, as soon as we know the rental places are open, Gigi's going to arrange for a car. This morning, and I don't want to hear you protest, we'll take a cab to the hospital."

Alan started to say something but stopped and looked at her. "I'm not going to win this one am I?"

She leaned across the table and patted him on the arm. "Your wife trained you well."

Alan smiled. "You would have liked Margaret. You two would have gotten along just fine. At least let me let me take care of the rental car, all right? As far as calling around and getting one sent over."

"Alan..." She stopped when he just stared at her. "Fine. I appreciate it." She heard movement on the stairs and raised an eyebrow. "That's too light a tread to be Gareth, or your son--"

Alan cleared his throat, a smile hovering at his lips. "You would be correct. Good morning, Amita."

"Mister Eppes! I didn't think…I mean..." The young woman stumbled to a stop.

Cat looked at her and the way she was blushing. "Well, I doubt you're Alan's paramour ... so, just guessing...You must be Charlie's?" Amita looked at Cat and nodded. "Good for you. But sneaking out of a house at oh-dark-thirty is not the way to make a good impression on a potential future father-in-law."

If it was possible Amita blushed even further.

Alan bit his tongue and tried not to laugh. "It's all right Cat. Amita, this is Catherine Granger, Agent Granger's mother? She and her husband are staying here while he recovers."

"Ah, the brilliant and beautiful Amita Ramanujan." Cat held out a hand to the baffled young woman. "Colby's told me about you. Forgive me for being rude...it's a habit mothers of young men get into rather fast when they hit their teen years."

Startled, Amita laughed and held out her hand. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Granger. I hope Colby gets better soon. I never thought he was..." She stopped talking when she realized what she had almost said.

"It's all right...I've quit badgering people about it. I know what my son is and isn't."

Amita nodded. "You just know don't you?" She looked at Alan. "I'm going to go now. If you wouldn't mind, could you tell Charlie there's a breakfast faculty meeting this morning at eight? Thank you." And out the back door she went.

"She seems like a very self-posessed young woman." Cat gestured after her.

"She is a delightful and charming woman and I am more than happy that she and Charlie are..." he paused "what's the phrase nowadays? An item. She thinks I'm going to bite though." He grinned.

"You're the father of the man she's...sleeping with. Of course she thinks you're going to bite."

Alan shook his head. "It was never this bad when Margaret and I were dating. Of course, I didn't sneak out of her father's house at 5 a.m. either. I don't think I'd be sitting here, if I had. I left at 4."

Cat laughed. "The younger generations tend to 'forget' it was our generation that started free love...it would shock them to no end if they knew the kind of capers our generation used to get up to. I wasn't so reserved ... I was a bit more rebellious, I think. However, Gigi was the first and the last." Cat sipped her coffee then set the mug back down. "Free love – it's never free. Our first was born less than 8 months after we married."

Alan quirked an eyebrow. "Shot gun wedding?"

"Only if you counted the one in my hands." She grinned.

That got a real laugh out of Alan. "You've got four boys?"

"Well, I had hoped for a girl, but I'm very happy with what God gave me and Gareth."

"Yes, I am extremely grateful what He granted myself and Margaret. We have no regrets." He paused, fiddled with his coffee mug, and then looked at Cat again. "Feel free to tell me none of my business but..."

"Alan - you can ask me anything."

"How did your boys handle the news? About Colby being…" He did not finish that sentence. "It was devastating to Donnie and Charlie. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for your family."

"Lars, the eldest, had the easier time of it, I think. He just told his boss and staff that there was a mistake, that it might take a while but it would be cleared up." She sighed. "Cliffton and Cody, however, had a much harder time of it."

Alan nodded. "One works for the Bureau in D.C. and the other is in the Navy? That right?"

"Yes. Cliff is the Navy man. He apparently spent a night in the ship's brig after busting the chops of some fellow crewmembers that dared question his little brother's loyalty. As for Cody ... He avoided fisticuffs, but only barely."

Another nod. "I never believed a word of it. I just couldn't. That was not the man I had met. Charlie ... I thought he was going to hide in the garage again, long story, and Donnie--" Alan shook his head. "He knew there was something off, he knew it, he just couldn't figure it out. He did in the end though with Charlie's help. Nothing makes me happier than watching them work together. Their mother would be very, very proud of them."

"You should be as well. I'm not sure what exactly it was that made Don decide to go after my son, I've not had the full briefing, and I doubt I'll ever get it, but I am forever thankful he did." She shook her head, "Of course, after what I dropped on his head last night, Don may never forgive himself."

Alan tilted his head to one side. "He did look a little shell shocked. But he'll work through it, he always does."

"I hope so, he's a good man." Cat's head went up as another set of footsteps sounded out in the living area. "Now that's tread I recognize."

"Morning, Gigi." Alan called out.

"Morning, Alan. Still an early riser I see--" Gareth stopped speaking as he entered the kitchen and saw the spread on the table. "You must have gotten up earlier than your usual to have this prepared already."

Alan shrugged and winked at Cat. "Maybe, maybe not. I know what I would be thinking if Donnie was in the hospital and it wouldn't be eating breakfast." He held up the coffee pot. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you." Gareth leaned over Cat and dropped a kiss on top of her head. "Did you try to shock another Eppes, Cat?"

"No, Alan's a bit harder nut to crack than his son."

Alan snorted. "I've had plenty of practice. Dare I ask if either of you slept well?"

"I am pretty sure Cat didn't, even if she won't admit it." Gareth said.

"And I'm pretty sure that if Gigi knows that, he didn't either." Cat replied.

"Guilty." Gareth took a huge swig from the coffee mug Alan handed him. "But at least I can catch a nap anywhere."

"As long as you don't snore." Cat said.

"I promise I will try not to snore." Gareth looked over at Alan. "Alan, before I get sidetracked, what taxi company would be the best one to use from here to the hospital?"

Alan thought for a moment. "'Glendale Livery.' Cat and I worked it out that if you took a cab this morning, I'd work on getting you a rental car for the rest of your stay here. Cat took me firmly in hand and told me how things were going to be." Alan deadpanned.

"I would argue, but if Cat and you have worked things out, I won't beleaguer the point." Gareth looked over at Cat. "You already take your morning round, dear?"

"Yes. I was just waiting for you to see if you wanted to take the time to honor Alan's hospitality by helping him not waste food or..."

"Dang it woman, you were the one who wanted to leave ASAP." Gareth groused.

"Yeah, well, I'm am - as you pointed out - a woman and you know how we women are." Her grin was wicked as she teased her husband, then the smile faded. "But I do want to get back to CeeJay as soon as we can."

Alan stood. "If you could hang on for just a moment." He went into the pantry and came back out with an empty plastic container and some plastic cutlery. He scooped a little bit of everything into it, shut the lid and handed it to Gareth. "I'll call the cab company for you." He looked at Cat. "Colby's a good man. He'll get through this. You all will." He left the room to call the cab and give the Grangers a little privacy.

Cat watched Alan leave the room and shook her head. "CeeJay did find a surrogate family here, didn't he, Gigi?"

Gareth nodded. "I told you he had, you just weren't listening."

"Yeah, well," She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I was more than a little upset back when you brought him home before and now...do you blame me for not exactly listening?"

Gareth shook his head and held out a hand to his wife. "Come on, dear. If we don't go now, the hospital might disappear in the next 45 minutes."

"Yes, love." She grasped his hand and, with a little effort, got to her feet. "Maybe by the time we get there, the Darvon will have taken effect and I won't look like my mother walking the halls."

Gareth laughed. "That would certainly surprise CeeJay, now wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it would." She paused in the living room and, with a little effort, found where she had laid her purse, more of a small back pack actually, and then turned back to find Alan waving at someone through the open front door.

"Your cab awaits." he said.

Gareth carried their breakfast out to the cab while Cat reached up and surprised Alan with a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Alan. For everything. I'll have Gigi call you - or Charlie - if we're going to be too late."

Alan smiled. "I'll leave a light on for you." He hugged her gently. "Tell Colby that I'll be by later."

"I will." She walked out the front door to where the cab waited and, with a little help from Gareth, managed to get into the back seat without too much difficulty. Then her thoughts once more focused in on her son, willing him to be better than when she saw him last night when he - her youngest child - had guilted her into leaving his side.


	12. Chapter 11 I Just Don't Know

**Part Eleven - I Just Don't Know **

Catherine waved at the nurses at their station in the CCU as she made her way around the horseshoe shaped unit to her son's room. She almost faltered when she noticed a tall, bald, good-looking black man standing outside CeeJay's room. //_Must be David_.// Cat approached him, making sure he could see her out of the corner of his eye if he wanted to, and cleared her throat. "Eh-hem?"

He looked over at her and nodded. "Mrs. Granger."

"Well, you know who I am ... who are you?"

"I'm David Sinclair. I'm..." He faltered.

"Colby's partner and friend. Gigi told me about you."

David nodded.

"Have you been in to see him?" She asked as she stepped up to the window to glance at her son, who was still passed out cold.

David shook his head, his mouth set in a firm line. "I didn't want to intrude. I just came by to see how he was before going to work."

She clasped him on the arm, "Well, you can hardly check on him from out here." She pulled on the arm, surprised when she couldn't even make him budge. "Is there a problem, Agent Sinclair?"

"Ma'am..." He swallowed. "I don't want to be rude but..." He couldn't quite meet Cat's eyes.

"Spill it, David. What's got your nose out of joint about CeeJay?"

"Ma'am. Up until I saw that needle sticking out of him, I thought, I knew, I **believed** he was a traitor. I thought he had betrayed me and everyone else, only to find out that I was wrong and that he just about died, well..." He swallowed again. "I shouldn't be here. I'm just intruding."

Catherine knew she couldn't let this man escape, not now. Not while he was so conflicted about the job her son had done. She used her other hand to latch onto his arm and, not taking 'no' for an answer this time, physically pulled him into the room she'd used last night to talk with Don. "Come with me. Now."

David stumbled after her.

Once she had the agent in the room, she locked the door and glared at him. "Sit."

He did.

"Agent Sinclair -- David, you were snookered. Colby had a job to do and couldn't tell you he was doing it. And now you feel like everything the two of you shared - including a drinking session where he told you about the British patrol incident - might not have been real. That about sum things up for you?" She leaned back against the door, her arms folded across her chest.

David blinked. "It's not that, Mrs. Granger."

"Oh? Then what the hell is it? 'Cause I know one of the first people CeeJay's going to look for when he wakes up is going to be his best friend in Los Angeles."

"It's that I didn't trust him. I took someone else's word over his and he was very nearly killed because of it. How can he trust me now?"

Catherine walked over to where Sinclair was sitting, not unamused to watch him flinch away from her. "So you're mad at yourself for not trusting CeeJay or are you mad at yourself because you didn't trust yourself?"

David had to think on that. "I'm mad...I'm mad at myself for not trusting Colby. I should've. I should've known. Why didn't I?"

She sat down beside David; this was going to be a longer chat session than she'd originally thought. "David, you couldn't have known. Hell, I didn't know and am his mother. However, I never thought Colby was capable of being a traitor, too many generations of... well, too many generations of honorable service to the United States runs through his veins for him to be capable of treason. But I'm also his mother, I would never think ill of my baby boy."

David shook his head. "When he 'confessed', I went flying in there and..."

"What? Don't stop, David, get this poison out of your system."

"I called him a traitor. I yelled it at him, Don just about had to drag me off him. I was so damn mad."

David put his head in his hands.

She couldn't help it, Catherine started to chuckle and the chuckle grew to a laugh when Sinclair looked over at her with horror plastered on his face. "Oh, damn ... he's good. He did his grandfather proud with that performance then."

"What?"

"David . . . how much do you know about the early years of the OSS or CIA?"

His forehead wrinkled in thought. "I know the OSS came before the CIA. And, depending on the person you talk to, the OSS was far more effective than the CIA."

"Other than Bill Donovan, do you recall the names of any of the more ... **colorful** characters attached to the CIA in the early years? Maybe the station chief in Argentina?"

David's eyes darted around the room. His mind reviewing everything he had ever read about the CIA in the beginning. "Uh...yeah, I remember something about the station chief in Argentina. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Do you recall his name?" She pushed.

David tilted his head to one side and made a face, after a few minutes he shrugged. "Started with an 'L'?"

"Robert Larsen."

"Okay. And?"

She held out her hand to him, "Catherine Roberta Larsen, now Granger. Pleased to meet you, Agent Sinclair."

He looked down at her hand, then up at her and shock flooded through his brain. "Your father is, was, Robert Larsen?"

"Yes, and Colby's grandfather. Robert was well known for playing both sides against the middle during his OSS years. Then, when he was named Station Chief of Argentina, he became even more adept at acting. It's a trait he passed on to my brother and, apparently, to Colby."

David hunched his shoulders as if a sudden chill had gone past him. "I get that it was an act, Mrs. Granger and that I wasn't supposed to know but..." He shook his head.

"David, I may not have known about CeeJay's mission before now - and I still don't know everything - but I do know one thing." She clasped his shoulder. "I know his friendship with you is genuine. The one thing that probably helped him do what he needed to do, even if he couldn't tell you jackschidt about anything." She moved her hand from his shoulder, reached out and -with a fairly firm finger on his goateed jaw - made him turn and look at her. "Every time I talked with CeeJay, he's always talked about you and how great it was to have a friend like you."

He blinked.

"He even went so far - once - to call you his 'homey'. Whatever the hell that means."

David snorted. "Really?"

"Really. I told him I didn't like slang, so he just started referring to you as 'my other brother'."

David blinked again and stood, walking away from Cat.

"I didn't...I wasn't..." He started and stopped several times before stumbling to a stop.

Catherine stood up and held her arms out to the distraught agent. "David, Colby will forgive you your doubts. I hope you can forgive yourself."

He looked at Cat, refusing to come any closer. "He could've died and I couldn't have done a damn thing about it. The most terrified I have ever been was when I saw that needle sticking out of him."

"Needle?" Catherine echoed David's question.

He blinked and realized that he had just said too much. He leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling. "Crap. I can't even talk to his mother without fucking up."

She crossed the room, backing him into a corner. "NEEDLE? I knew he'd had CPR done on him . . . but are you telling me there was MORE TO IT?"

David opened and closed his mouth several times. Then finally admitted, "That's why he needed the CPR."

Her voice was cold, almost liquid helium. "Tell me the son of a bitch who tried to kill my son is taking a long dirt nap."

He nodded.

"Good. And thank you, David."

"What for?"

"I knew Agent Eppes had been part of the CPR team, now I know you were too. Thank you for not letting Colby slip away without a fight."

He nodded and blinked, trying to keep the tears from escaping. He cleared his throat. "You're welcome."

Catherine reached out and, surprising him if his reaction was any indication, pulled Agent Sinclair into an embrace. "David, when Colby wakes up - talk to him. I think, I know, he'll understand your doubts and forgive you for them. I just hope, one day, you can forgive yourself." She released him from the hug, crossed back to the door, slipped the bolt back to the unlocked position and walked out.

When she arrived in Colby's room, Gareth was already seated. He stood when she came in.

"Cat - are you going to let any of CeeJay's team just see him without dragging them off into a closet for a 'talk'?" He asked.

"Gareth, it's not my fault they all look pole-axed."

"Right, woman. Here. They were out of the apple-cinnamon but I managed to find a decent chamomile tea for you."

She sipped at the tea and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

Gareth nodded at their sleeping son. "He didn't even so much as twitch when the nurse came in while you were MIA. She removed the second IV but it didn't seem to affect him too much."

Cat looked at Colby. She reached through the bars and took his hand in hers. "We're back, CeeJay."

**That** got a little bit of a reaction. His hand curled around hers, holding on tight, and he rolled toward her onto his side. She smiled and looked up at her husband. "He knows we're here, Gareth. That's all that matters."

"True." He got her to let go for a moment, just long enough to sit comfortably before taking her son's hand again. Then Gareth sat down in the chair on the other side of the bed and began to read the newspaper.

"I did send you off last night, right? Tell me I didn't just dream that when I got home and fell asleep." Dr. Mosely said, standing in the doorway. Once again, he looked down at his watch, then up at Cat and Gareth.

"Yes, Dr. Mosely, you did. You can ask the nurses if you don't believe me." Cat said, a little offended.

Gareth buried his nose in the paper, content to let his wife and the doctor duke it out.

"Did you get any sleep, Mrs. Granger?" He put down Colby's chart and squatted next to her chair so he could look her directly in the eye.

Cat returned the look. "What do you think, Dr. Mosely?"

"A few hours then. How's your back? I'm treating one Granger, might as well check the health of another."

Cat actually smiled at him. He was just doing his job after all. "Not bad. I took my pills this morning. Or would you like me to bring the bottles so you can count them and see?"

Dr. Mosely chuckled. "Nah, I trust you. Just let me know if you need anything while you're here. I could even order up a nice heat therapy pad from Physical Therapy if you need it later."

She reached out and squeezed his arm. "That's very kind of you. How's CeeJay?"

"Doing much better." Mosely stood up and snagged the chart from where he'd dropped it on the bed. "His labs show that the drug levels in his system are significantly lower this morning, which is why I discontinued the second IV."

Gareth's eyes appeared over the top of the paper. "Are you two done sparring with each other?"

"Gareth...I was not sparring with Dr. Mosely, I was debating..."

"Mr. Granger, I do not spar with the mothers of my patients...that is why there are nurses."

Gareth laughed. "You have a sense of humor, that's good."

"Humor? Mr. Granger, I'll have you know...the nurses in this unit only call me when they need a second opinion and an order signed off on. THEY are the true force to be reckoned with here, not me."

Cat nodded. "As it should be."

"If yu'r gonna yak, do'it ou'sid?" The sleepy voice got everyone's attention.

"Baby!" Cat looked over at the bed and saw Colby looking back.

He frowned when he saw her. "Ma, wot a'r du'in here?"

"What do you think, sweetheart?"

His eyes closed, then opened back up to look at her. "Sen' you home."

"Last night, sweetheart." Cat squeezed her son's hand gently.

Gareth stood and came over to the bed. "Mornin', son."

"Mor'n Dad..." Colby was waking up further and, as he did, his language skills came back and he removed the O2 mask to make sure he was understood. "It's way too early for either of you to have gotten much sleep...and what is that I smell?"

Gareth pointed to the bag on the floor. "Alan didn't want us to starve."

"Oh, man, is that torture...Unless I'm allowed to have solids?" He looked toward the doctor, eyes pleading.

"Not yet, Agent Granger. I know, it's rather cruel, but we need to see if you can handle lighter fare first before going full tilt into the solid category." Dr. Mosely looked at his watch. "Dietary should be bringing the carts around any minute now."

Colby sighed.

"However, if you can handle breakfast, then I'll personally call down to dietary and change your lunch and dinner orders to something far more substantial."

Colby's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yes." Mosely motioned for Cat to stand up, even helping her get to her feet, then nodded them out the door. "I really need to exam your son and, yes, while I know there's nothing there you haven't seen before, let's have a little privacy, hmm?"

Cat _looked_ at Dr. Mosely. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Baby." She said to Colby before walking from the room. Gareth winked at Colby before following his wife from the room.

"Your mother is force to be reckoned with Agent Granger." Dr. Mosely told him.

"Yeah, no kidding. Stubborn too...but I'm actually thankful for that right now."

Dr. Mosely grinned. "And thank you for getting her to go last night. I was not looking forward to having security escort her out."

"It was the best thing, even if she'll never admit it." Colby threw back the sheets and sat up on the edge of the bed, following Mosely's non-verbal requests, and waited for the 'fun' to begin.

"Mother's never admit such things, Agent. Okay, first things first…let's see the bruises."

Colby sighed and slid out of the hospital gown as best he could. He sported a spectacular set of bruises on his upper left torso.

"Hmm-mmm. Those are forming up nicely. How does your chest feel? Any crackling or overt tenderness not associated with bruising?" Mosely pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket and, after taking a second to warm up the diaphragm, started to listen to his patient's lung sounds even as Colby answered.

"No, the bruises are the worst."

"Good, and your lungs sound clear too."

"Dr. Mosely?"

"Yes, Agent Granger?"

"Do you know who did CPR on me?"

Mosely shook his head. "No, I don't." He picked up Colby's chart and flipped backwards through the pages until he reached the original ER report. "All it says is that CPR was started by FBI agents on scene." He flipped the chart closed and set it down. "Okay, next fun thing...and I'm going to apologize in advance and ask that you not hurt me."

The stethoscope went away and a penlight came out.

Colby made a noise of disgust. "You sure about that Dr. Mosely?"

"Right, it's not fun...for you. Just please don't smack me. Grab the mattress or something."

Colby gripped the bed, his fingers curling into the material. "Okay."

The light flashed across one eye, then the other, both causing Colby to flinch violently and keep his eyes closed for well over a minute. When he finally squinted them open again, Mosely was sitting down marking something on the chart.

"Okay, that was a bit longer than I expected. How's the head, Agent Granger?"

"It hurts."

"Extreme photophobia. Tell me, out of curiosity, can you read the chart over there on the wall?" He pointed out of Colby's room toward a sign behind the nurse's station.

"It's a chart on hand washing." Colby said, looking at Dr. Mosely.

"And that answers that question." Another note made in the chart before Mosely stood up and approached Colby with two items in his hand. "All right, I need to test your tactile sense. Please close your eyes and leave them that way until I say you can open them."

Colby eyed Dr. Mosely but did as was he was asked. The items were put into a pocket and two others pulled out; the first was a downy feather, which he ran down the agent's bare arm. "Can you tell me what that is, Agent?"

Colby flinched. "Uh...a needle?"

"Okay. And this?" He ran an empty hand along the other arm, just about 1" above it without touching the Agent's skin.

Colby frowned. "There's nothing there."

"Okay. Good. Now this?" He placed the feather on the back of Granger's hand and left it there. "A...a..." Colby frowned.

"Agent?"

"A feather?"

"Open your eyes, Agent." Dr. Mosely waited until Colby had done so and then pointed at the feather. "That was also your needle. I used the downy side, not the quill, for the first test." Another note was hastily scribbled into the chart.

Colby's frown returned. "Oh. Is that normal?"

"It's as normal for a person whose been dosed with a pretty high amount of QnB." Mosely handed his patient a new gown, then sat down and studied Colby for a minute.

Colby shrugged into the gown, wincing as the fabric slid across his arms.

"You're probably going to experience occasional bouts of heightened and whacked out senses for a while. Have you noticed any odors or tastes being especially pungent since last night?"

"I smelled my dad's breakfast and it was on the floor over there." He pointed beyond the empty chair to the left of the bed.

"It was?" Mosely shook his head. "I didn't realize that you'd actually smelled that when I came in, I thought he'd told you about it and that's what you were reacting to."

Colby shook his head, grimacing at the sudden pain. "Nah, I heard you all talking and I could smell something...something good."

"Right." More notes scribbled into the chart. "Any other sounds you couldn't account for by glancing around this room or the unit?"

"Um..." He flushed. "This'll sound really stupid."

"Try me."

"Last night, I thought I was drowning and when I woke up I thought I saw my girlfriend from high school here in the room."

More chart scribbling. "Really? You know that wouldn't have been completely impossible, for you to have seen her – even knowing there was no way for her to actually be here."

"What do you mean?"

"Colby...the drugs that were used on you, the QnB and the Tubocurrae, as well as just what your brain is doing to try to compensate for what you went through...sometimes we'll see things that aren't possible but are comfortable. For instance, you felt like you were drowning and saw your old girlfriend." A few pages on the chart were flipped over. "Ah-ha, here it is."

"What?"

"Just a second--" Mosely stood up went over to the door and opened it, calling for one of the nurses. "Janet? Could you step over here a moment before you go?"

"Certainly." She called back.

Janet came over to the room and came in. "Good morning, Agent Granger."

"Good morning." Colby said, feeling that there was something going on, he didn't quite remember. The nurse was dark haired and wore it back in a long ponytail, just like Nadine used to, they were even of a near height, but the resemblance ended there. He blinked and looked at Dr. Mosely.

"Was your old girlfriend a brunette like Janet, Agent Granger?"

Colby nodded.

Mosely nodded to the nurse, "That's all Janet, thank you." Mosely closed the door and sat back down. "Janet wrote up the incident in her nurses notes. You were reacting to the amount of humidity in the oxygen and seemed to settle once she started to use what she called 'her teen voice'. It wasn't quite a full-blown hallucination, but it wasn't just a dream either. Until that crap is out of your system completely, you're going to be prone to all kinds of weird stuff."

Colby turned a deeper red. "And when will that be?"

Dr. Mosely chuckled. "Well, if you push the fluids, orally plus the IVs, and keep the oxygen in place, you should be drug free in about another 24 hours."

"That'll be great."

"If it's any consolation, Janet didn't mind and she's off for vacation starting this morning. You have a week to get out of here before she comes back."

Colby groaned. "If my mother ever finds out about this..."

"I'm not telling her...you going to?"

Colby shook his head, not caring if it gave him a headache.

Mosely tapped him, lightly, on the shoulder. "Rest, Agent. I'll update your folks before I leave. You want anything for the headache?"

"A new head?" he asked.

"Sorry, modern medicine is good but we're not that good. Yet."

Colby gave him a tired smile. This constant weariness was getting to be a hassle. He wanted to stay awake for more than 15 minutes at a time.

"Agent Granger, the more you sleep the more you heal." Mosely helped his patient square away on the bed, settled the mask over his face, and then pulled the sheets up over the younger man. "Sleep. It's the best thing for you right now." He left the room, turning the lights lower as he left.

He wondered about the tall, black man standing outside of Granger's room, until he spotted the flash of a badge. He shrugged and went of to find the Granger family to let them know he was done with their son.


	13. Chapter 12 Mad At The World

**Part Twelve -****Mad At The World **

Don looked up and saw Jacob Byer, another supervisory agent, looming over his desk. He did not look happy.

"I don't know what crawled up Sinclair's ass and died but the next time he snarls at one of my people, we're havin' words and it ain't gonna be pleasant."

Don sighed. Jacob was the fourth complaint in as many days. "What'd he do?"

"All Thomas did was ask for the Bergeron file and David just about bit his head off. The only person who gets to do that is me. Whatever David's problem is, he's gotta deal with it, 'cause the next person he snaps at ain't gonna come to you." Jacob turned and walked away.

Don winced. Jacob was well and truly pissed. He never used the word 'ain't' unless he was, that and his East Texas accent creeping into his speech was the other indication he was hacked.

Don sighed again and hauled himself to his feet. This was going to end and it was going to end now before David got fired. He had been snapping at everyone since Colby's arrest and things had only disintegrated further since Colby had been pulled off the freighter. For every complaint Don heard, he knew there had to be at least three to four complaints he didn't hear and over the course of five weeks, that was a **lot** of complaints.

After a twenty-minute search of the building, Don was ready to strangle David himself. //_Like I have the time to do this_.// He thought darkly, stalking into the gym. //_If he's not here, I'm putting out an APB on him_.//

He spotted his quarry beating a punching bag to within an inch of its life. He took a deep breath, told himself to calm down and marched over to David. The few other people in the gym scattered. No one wanted to be in the fallout zone between the supervisor and junior agent.

"David..."

"What?" David didn't stop.

"You wanna stop for a moment?" //_Oh, yeah, this was going to be fun_.//

"Not really." The jabs and hits started to fly at a faster pace, causing Don to grab the bag and hold it steady, with the bag between him and David's flying fists.

"David."

"What?!"

"Stop. You and I need to come to an understanding on a few things." Don told him.

David threw one last punch at the bag, the energy of the hit radiated into Don's hands. "Fine. What do you - we - need to understand?"

Don stepped around the bag and stood in front of David. He could just feel the anger radiating off the younger man. "That unless you want to hand in your badge now, you need to take it down a notch and stop snapping at every one."

David walked over to a bench and started to untape his hands. He did not respond to Don.

Don followed him over to the bench and stood there, waiting.

"Who bitched?" David asked, not looking at his boss.

"Who _hasn't_? I've gotten four complaints in the last two days. I'm figuring for every single one I heard, there's probably three I didn't. Do you want to get fired?"

David rolled the used tape into a hard ball and tossed it, hard, toward the trashcan near the door. It missed, but the solid thud it made when it hit the wall made Don wince. "What if I just don't give a rip?"

Don frowned. This was totally unlike David. The man he knew and worked with lived for his job. "If that's the case, then why bother coming in? You want to make everyone else miserable along with you? You're mad at the world and want everyone to know it? Surprise, we get it."

David actually snorted. "Mad at the world? Hardly. Just one person, if you really need to know."

Don sighed, again. "Then stop taking it out on everyone else. Okay? I'm getting tired of having to explain your behavior to other people. I've got other things to do with my time."

David sat there stewing in silence for so long that Don started to leave. David just wasn't listening.

"Don ... how do you get over being pissed at yourself?" David asked.

Don turned back and looked at David. "About what? There's a whole lot of things I've been pissed at myself for." He came back over and crouched down in front of David.

"I understand, intellectually, that what Granger did was necessary. I do. But I'm still--"

"Mad at him?" Don saw the pain and anger and confusion in David's eyes and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"Him, me, Carter, Lancer ... name a person and, yeah, right about now I'm pissed at everyone."

But maybe there was//_Damn, Eppes, you are slowing down_.//

"Mostly myself, truth be told."

"I'm going to make a suggestion and if you even considered ignoring it, you're not going to like what happens next."

"'Kay."

Don pulled his wallet out his back pocket and flipped through the ever-growing stack of business cards. He pulled one out and handed it to David "Go see him."

"Dr. Bradford? Don, you know that if I see a shrink, even on a recommendation, it goes in my permanent record! I've already got two psyche evals in my personnel jacket!" There was real panic in David's voice and on his face.

Don frowned. "And if you don't come to grips with this, you're not going to HAVE a jacket."

"Fine. Just answer me one thing … if you can?"

"What?"

"Does Bradford really KNOW what it means to ... well, to be what we are? The last two I saw sure as hell didn't know a gun from a collapsible ASP."

Don rocked back on his heels and thought for a moment. Then he slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, he knows. I had to go the first time. I've kept going because he does."

"So ... he's not one to psychobabble?"

Don shook his head. "No, he's not. He's brutal is what he is."

This time David's snort wasn't derisive, more like a suppressed-at-the-last-second burst of laughter. "Maybe that's what I need. Okay, I'll call and see if I can get an appointment."

"You've got one." Don took the card back and flipped it over. On the back was written a date and time for an appointment

"He knows you're coming."

David's mouth dropped open. Then closed. Then he shook his head. "Damn, you are one sneaky sonofa--"

Don's eyebrow quirked up. "I'm what, Agent Sinclair?"

"Exactly what I want to be as a supervisor one day, sir." He got up from the bench and walked toward the showers.

"Don't be late and turn off your phone!" Don called after him. He walked out of the gym to discover a gaggle of agents hanging around in the hallway, including at least three Crime Scene Techs, complete with their gear.

The CST team leader, Shelley Montenegro, who spoke up first. "No obvious blood, but then again, Eppes has been at this a while. Maybe we should check the gym for a body or evidence of a murder anyway?"

Don eyed Shelley. "I'm shocked and amazed that you have absolutely nothing else to do, Montenegro." He said, in a totally deadpan voice, only mildly surprised at crowd of people gathered around the gym.

"Actually, I was in the middle of running the labs on the Granger case when I got a call that someone might be in the process of mauling Agent Sinclair down here." She smiled at him. "Nice to see that you can do that without splatter."

He looked around at the gaggle of agents. "You know guys, I'm not in the best of moods right now."

Everyone BUT Shelley scattered. He looked at her and smiled.

"Seriously, Eppes, you didn't kill him, did you?"

"No, I didn't kill him. But if I had, even you wouldn't be able to find the body." He paused and added, "Thanks for the concern. I think I might have gotten David on the right track finally. I hope."

"I hope so too. He's a good guy, just ... tell him if he ever chews on my people again, I won't be as nice as you were." With that, Shelley walked away.

Don looked at the floor, then up at the ceiling then walked away from the gym. If he could just get David to work through his anger then maybe, just maybe, he could, kind of, halfway keep his team together. He waited until he reached the elevator, then pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

"Lilya, this is Don Eppes, I have an appointment with Dr. Bradford at 11 but I've got another agent who needs to be seen by the doctor ASAP, so he's coming in my place. I'll reschedule."

There was a long pause and he could almost hear her purse her lips.

She sighed. "_Agent Eppes, you know how Dr. Bradford feels about last minute switches_."

//Yeah, it pisses him off.// Don thought. "Lilya, I'd only do this in an extreme emergency. He's not going to be able to wait until Dr. Bradford can fit him in."

Another sigh. "_Fine ... agent's name_?"

"David Sinclair. Thank you, Lilya. You're an angel."

"_Oooh, for this one you'd best think of one heck of a way to say 'thank you' in person, Eppes_."

Don grinned. "What do you want? I'm just a hard working federal employee."

"_You'll think of something, Eppes. I hear you're rather resourceful_."

"Uh, huh. What else do you hear Lilya?"

"_Now, Eppes, I may be only a secretary, but even I adhere to the confidential information rule. What you do in service for your country is your business, unless State gets wind of it_." The connection went dead as Lilya hung up on him. He stared at his cell, swearing he could see her huge smile.

* * *

"Will?" Lilya called into Dr. Bradford's office. She had worked with the man long enough to know how to handle him.

"Yeah?"

"I've got a change in your 11 a.m. appointment. David Sinclair is coming in Eppes' place. He'll reschedule."

The silence and then the sigh could have been heard all the way downtown. "What's the emergency now?"

"The way Eppes put it, Agent Sinclair couldn't wait to be seen at a normal time. I think he's trying to talk Sinclair down from the ledge, so to speak."

Another long-suffering sigh issued forth from the inner sanctum. "Doesn't he have any normal people on that team?"

She got up from her desk and went to the door of Bradford's office. "Maybe Reeves, if you can call a behaviorist 'normal'."

Bradford shook his head. "I should just pull them all in at the same time and save myself the trouble of seeing them one at a time, since that looks like where I'm heading with this."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Will, have you heard the scuttlebutt on Sinclair recently?"

Bradford thought for a moment. "Let's see ... Are you referring to the whispers that he's been in a permanently foul mood ever since they pulled Granger off the streets and shoved him into federal custody? Or the one where Sinclair's temper has degraded even further since Team Eppes, Hostage-Rescue Team's Alpha team and a 'boat load' of other local agencies went and grabbed Granger off that freighter?"

"You could say that. Two words, Will - Anger Issues." She smiled, went back to her desk and grabbed up her purse and sweater. "I'll be back before he arrives. Just want to grab a coffee from down the street first. You want anything?"

"My usual."

"Right. Red-Eye with three shots of espresso and hazelnut liquor, flavoring only."

"You read my mind."

"Someone's got to watch your back. Oh, if Sinclair's still as pissy as I've heard - it wouldn't hurt for you to have the Kevlar handy." Her grin was sickenly sweet as she scooted out the door.

Bradford shook his head, got up from his desk and went over to the bookshelf next to the door, pulling a fresh notepad off the stack. "Why did I come in this morning?" he asked himself.

* * *

Lilya was right. David Sinclair wasn't just mad, he was angry, very, very angry. He stalked into Dr. Bradford's office and threw himself in a chair, refusing to answer any questions for the first fifteen or so minutes.

Bradford, used to dealing with pissed off cops and feds, tried a tactic he used only on the truly upset. He threw David off balance. "So, you're pissed because he didn't tell you even though he couldn't tell you. Stop acting like a spurned lover."

David glared at Bradford. "He lied to me, how can I trust him again..." David said.

"News flash - he lied to EVERYONE, including himself. It's kind of a necessary evil when we have people that want to kill us. I would have thought you remembered that from the Academy or from your time in Tel Aviv." Bradford said.

"How…?"

Bradford rolled his eyes. "What? Like I can't find out where you've been in your career? If you truly think you can't trust him ever again and don't even want to have a simple conversation with him, why then did you do CPR on him?"

"Because it's the job . . . no, that's not right. Because I wanted to believe in him again." David said.

"And that's what's eating at you. You were so certain but the moment you saw he was in trouble, none of that mattered. But now -- you don't know what to do." Bradford said.

"Now I wonder if anything he ever told me was the truth." David replied.

"If you truly believed that you wouldn't have saved his life." Bradford said. "Sinclair, I want you to think about something; how would you have handled things if you'd been put into the spot that Granger was in? Could you really handle all the pain and emotional upheaval he went through? Are you, like he was, willing to die to keep someone from learning what you know?"

David did not reply.

"You gotta do something." Bradford prodded David. "If you really think that you will never be able to have a working relationship with Granger, then put in for a transfer."

David glared at Bradford.

"Don't glare at me. I'm not the one who can't hold a conversation with a former partner, let alone be civil with other coworkers who've never done a damn thing to you to warrant your pissy attitude. If you can't deal with this, you need to transfer. You'll get someone killed if you don't. Possibly yourself."

"I've talked to him--"

Bradford snorted. "That's right, you talked TO him, not WITH him. You didn't want to listen to what he had to say, hell, you don't even want be in the same room with him."

David swallowed. "It's not that…"

"Then what is it? Surely you know you weren't sent here because your boss had nothing else for you to do, right?"

David got up from the chair and went over to the window, his shoulders hunched over. He had no answer.

"Let me put it this way...Agent Eppes would prefer NOT to make the one phone call all LEO's dread. And that is exactly what's going to happen if you don't deal with this. You have to reconcile the two feelings in your head. Do you really think you can separate 'Granger' from 'Colby' and your emotions won't be so bruised?" Bradford prodded. "Yes, Granger lied to you. Yes, he really looked like a traitor. Yes, he was deep undercover. Does that mean he didn't value your friendship?"

"I don't know." David mumbled.

"You realize the man probably didn't have anyone he could just cut loose with and forget about things - even for a moment - about his assignment? Except maybe the guy he worked with . . . the same one who refused, in the end, to let his buddy die at the hands of a real traitor."

"So...?"

"So I'd suggest to the guy Granger worked so closely with, who he hung around with off-duty, that when Granger comes back to work - **if** he comes back - that they sit down and just talk."

David did not answer; he just stood looking out the window. It was another gorgeous day in L.A.

"When you first saw Granger after coming through hatchway, what was the first thing you felt?"

David's shoulders hunched further.

Bradford let him stew for a moment or two longer. "Well?"

"Scared out of my mind." David's voice was pitched so low Bradford could hardly hear him.

"And now?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?" Bradford was content sit and wait for David to suss out the answers on his own. The minutes ticked by and finally, the silence was broken by a deep, deep sigh.

"I don't know who he is."

"I don't think Granger knows either. But when he figures it out, you'll know and then why don't you ask him?" Bradford looked at his watch. "Okay, hour's nearly up. You want to come back tomorrow? Same time?"

"Sure."


	14. Chapter 13 Who Am I?

**Part Thirteen - Who**** Am I? **

He was getting sick and tired of being confined to a hospital bed. This was the second time in a year that he'd landed in a sickbay due to poison. This first time was due to a crazy – literally – neighbor lady who'd decided he made a pretty good guinea pig for her research into the effects of slow arsenic toxicity. Now, once more, poison had landed him in a critical or intensive care unit; only this time it was because he had done his duty by his country and earned a lovely cocktail of chemicals at the hands of a real spy for the gawdamn Chinese. Including the final and, now that he stopped to think back to it, extremely painful heart stopping injection of potassium chloride.

Now, he was starting to feel human again, he was alive, even if he still had nerve endings that were sending totally mixed signals, the lightest touch of his mother's hand earlier had felt like a ten-ton slap. His father had left just a few minutes before to get something from the cafeteria for his mother…

Colby looked at Catherine R.L. Granger, clearly dozing off in the larger of the two visitor's chairs, and wondered when she would get around to verbally beating him senseless for allowing himself to get pulled into an intelligence caper that made ones her father had committed look like child's play. He was pretty damn sure she'd rake him over the coals, but he'd enjoy that after what that sonovabitch Lancer had put him through.

His father came back into the room, the odor of strong coffee and some sort of herbal apple and cinnamon tea wafting through the air from the cups in his hands, and Colby found himself trying not to puke. The side effects of the Quinuclidinyl Benzylate, the hypersensitivity of the senses, were still hitting him at odd intervals; turning things he usually liked, the smell of coffee for instance, into something that he couldn't stomach. Breathing deeply through the gore rising in his throat, Colby didn't notice the man following his father into the room until the man spoke up.

"I see you're looking as well as can be expected, Agent Granger."

He looked up and noticed the visitor was none other than the Director of the Los Angeles Field Office standing there behind his father. "Director Hoffman?" His immediate instinct was to try to sit up, a mistake considering his heart started to pound rapidly from the exertion.

Thomas Hoffman waved a hand, one not holding anything, silently telling Colby to lie back down. "Relax, Agent Granger. I just wanted to stop by to see you in person and to let you know your case has already been reviewed."

Colby nodded but his mother, who'd awakened upon hearing an unknown voice, glared at Director Hoffman. "What the hell does that mean? His _case_? My son is not a traitor."

"Cat—"

"Mom—"

"NO!" Catherine Granger fairly exploded out of the lounge chair and got right up into the Director's face, backing the much taller man into a corner. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to someone else malign the name of one of Robert Larsen's grandsons again."

Colby was torn between laughing at Hoffman's reaction and trying to decide if he was strong enough to help his father pull his mother away from Hoffman's throat. In the end, Colby just sat back and waited for the Director to pronounce the review board's decision.

"Mrs. Granger, I assure you, I know your son's status and his connections to the infamous Bobby Larsen. According to FBI Director Atwater's testimony, it's one of the main reasons the Agency permitted Agent Kirkland to run a raw recruit as a deep cover agent." Hoffman smiled a wry grin, "That and Atwater took into account the work your son here did for Army CID in both Afghanistan and Iraq."

"Director Hoffman—" Colby used a warning tone, something he'd never do if he weren't sure the man was about to say something that wasn't cleared for anyone to hear.

"Director," Chief Granger stepped into the fray, "I'm sure that whatever our son did in those places has not been declassified or CeeJay would've told us about them." His father looked at him and Colby nodded to confirm his summation. "Now, you were telling him about the disposition of his case?"

"Yes." Hoffman stepped away from Catherine, and closer to Colby's bedside. "Due to evidence found at the scene and the testimony of Director Atwater, who vouched that you were, indeed, deep undercover, not to mention that our Counter-Intelligence unit is going absolutely nuts trying to ferret out all of—" He stopped just short of saying Lancer's name,"—the possible doubles who were working for the Chinese." Hoffman held out his hand, in which he held Colby's credentials and badge-folio. "Agent Colby Granger, you are to return to duty with the Bureau – you'll have your pick of assignments, anywhere in the US or our overseas concerns – as soon as you are declared clear by medical."

Colby took the items from Director Hoffman and realized just how much he'd missed having those around for the last five weeks. "Thank you, sir."

"There are also a few dozen accommodations going into your file." Hoffman reached out and it was clear to Colby someone had briefed the man on the effects of Quinuclidinyal Benzylate for the touch on his shoulder was feather-light. "Welcome back, Agent Granger. You keep performing like this for the rest of your career, you may just find yourself kicked back to DC at some point." Hoffman turned to leave, nodding to Colby's parents. "You might want to catch the news . . . we're doing our best to rectify what happened nearly six weeks ago." And the man was gone.

Curious, Colby found the remote control for the television and turned the set on.

_"In breaking news this morning, the Los Angeles FBI office has come forward to inform us that the agent, arrested for treason over five weeks ago, Special Agent Colby Granger, is _not guilty_ of the crime. In fact, Los Angeles Director Thomas Hoffman, in conjunction with the FBI Director in Washington DC – Joseph Atwater, have issued a statement that Agent Granger had been working undercover and is not, repeat not, guilty of any charges that were leveled against him while he was performing his duty under cover."_

He clicked the channel changer, but all the stations were airing the same _breaking news_. He eventually just turned the damn thing off, remembering, all too clearly, how the media had dragged his name through the local mud when he'd been _arrested_ and now? Now it looked like they'd totally forgotten just how much joy they'd had taking down an 'All American Boy turned Army soldier turned FBI Agent turned Traitor.' The detention facility hadn't allowed any of those incarcerated within its walls access to print, radio or news media, but that hadn't stopped the guards from telling him _exactly_ what the world outside thought of him.

"CeeJay, the truth is out, that's what matters. If the media try to drag you through the mud again, they'll be crucified by people who know better." Colby looked over at his parents, it had been his fathers' quiet and determined voice that had cut through the melancholy miasma in his head.

"Dad-- It's not that. Well, not fully." He clutched his credentials tightly in his left hand, "I found myself working in the Bureau, then I willingly gave it up for five fucking weeks – sorry, Mom – just so I could get close to Carter's handler and it damn near cost me my life." He tossed the credentials onto the bedside table. "I'm not sure who the hell I am anymore or even if I even want to stay with the damn Federal Bureau of Ineptitude."

"Cat, why don't you go for a stroll? I think our son needs to talk without holding back." Gareth suggested to Colby's mother, who nodded silently and turned away to walk out of the room. But not before Colby caught a glimpse of possible tears glistening on the edge of her eyes even as she bit her lower lip in an expression Colby knew meant she was worried.

"Damn it, I didn't mean to upset Mom." He confessed as he sank further back down into the hospital bed.

"Too late, CeeJay. She's been on the ragged edge of just falling apart since we got word you were hurt." His father pulled the less-friendly chair up to the side of the bed, sat down and gently reached through the bedrails to lay his warm hand on Colby's arm. "Now, why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?"

He did. He totally unloaded on his father; nothing that was classified, but all his emotional trash. His sense of abandonment by, not only the Bureau, but his teammates – planned but no one, not one agent he'd worked with for over two years, came to see him after he'd been moved into the damn military holding facility – and how the only 'friendly' he'd had contact with had been his handler and how he knew, when he couldn't reach the man, his handler was dead. Then there'd been what had happened on the cargo ship, which he glossed over not wanting to add to his father's worries, and how he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was a dead man. How happy he'd felt when he heard the cavalry arrive, only to realize he was going to die anyway.

When he finished, his father had pulled him into a gentle embrace and when Colby realized it didn't set his nerve endings to screaming, he held on to his father like a man clutching a life buoy.

Neither one of them had noticed Megan Reeves standing just outside the door, holding back her own tears of frustration. Moving silently back down the hall away from the room, she found a quiet corner and placed a phone call.

* * *

"Doctor Bradford's Office, Lilya speaking, how can I help you?"

_"Yes, this is Agent Megan Reeves. Is Dr. Bradford in ?" _

"Yes, but he's with a patient at the moment, Agent Reeves." //_What the hell is this team on_?// Lilya thought.

_"Can you tell me when he'll be finished? I'd like to talk to him without having to leave a message."_ Megan replied.

Lilya watched as Sinclair left the office via the other door and, waving, caught William's attention. "Just a moment, Agent Reeves, he may have just finished. Can you hold?"

She put the Agent on hold and waited until Bradford was standing at her desk. "You are NOT going to believe who's on the line asking for you, Will."

"Colby Granger?"

"Nope. Close though. Care to try again?"

"Ed McMahon."

"Ha-ha. Megan Reeves. You want to take it here or your office?" Bradford sighed. This was turning into a very long day. "My office."

"I'll transfer in there in a few seconds." She picked up the phone again, "Agent Reeves, Doctor Bradford is done, I'll transfer your call now." //_and cancel the rest of his appointments for the day - I've got a bad feeling about this one_...//

_"Thank you." _

"You're welcome, Agent."

The call went through to Will's office and she heard the man pick up even as she got on a secondary line and started to call his other patients.

_"Dr. Bradford? This is Megan Reeves."_ Megan paced back and forth in the corner she was standing in.

"What can I do for you, Agent Reeves?" Bradford asked.

_"Can you come to UCLA Medical Center?" _

"Agent Reeves, I'm not one to make hospital visits ... unless ... is this in reference to Agent Granger?"

_"Yes, sir, it is."_

"I'm scheduled to see him in two days, are you telling me it might be better if I saw him sooner?" If the behaviorist confirmed his suspicions, Lilya was going to be pissed. Rescheduling patients at the last minute was a pain.

_"That's exactly what I'm saying." _

Bradford pulled a fresh note pad toward himself. "What did you observe or hear that leads you to that conclusion, Agent Reeves?"

_"Agent Granger lives for his work. He eats, sleeps, and breathes it. When he starts to question whether or not he should still do it, I start looking for the phone." _

Bradford nodded. "Undercover work is a bitch. All right, Agent Reeves, I'll be there as soon as Lilya and I can clear my schedule. And I want a favor."

_"Of course. What?" _

"If he agrees to this, you are going to be in the room with us. He needs to know that someone he calls 'friend' knows exactly what he went through. I understand his parents are in town?"

_"Yes, sir. They are." _

"Are they there at the hospital now?" Bradford asked. This was not going to be easy...

_"I don't know. Probably." _

"Agent Reeves, if they are there, you will need to find some excuse to get them to leave. Tell them the truth if you have to, but they do not need to hear what I may pull out of their son - even accidentally."

_"Of course. I'll let his father know. He'll think of something." _

"Thank you, Agent Reeves. I should, hopefully, be there in about an hour, maybe a little later, depending on traffic."

_"Thank you, Dr. Bradford." _

William hung up and hit the intercom button, "Lilya, clear my afternoon, I'm going to UCLA Med Center."

"Already did, Will."

"You are a treasure. Keep my appointment in two days with Agent Granger open, I'm going to see him now, but I might need a second session, or more."

"Will do. Remember this for my next pay increase."

"Like I have any influence over that. But I promise to remember Secretary's Day, will that do?"

There was what could only be called a dramatic sigh from Lilya. "I guess it will have to do"

Bradford hung up, grabbed his portfolio briefcase and put his suit jacket back on; he'd taken it off to help Sinclair feel a little less like he was talking to "a suit." The only question left in his mind was did he want to drive or call a cab to get to UCLA Medical?


	15. Chapter 14 Dr Bradford, I Presume?

**Part Fourteen - ****Dr. Bradford, I presume? **

After calling Dr. Bradford, Megan came back down the hallway to Colby's room and waited until she was certain Gareth and Colby were finished talking. She then rapped gently on the doorframe and poked her head in the room.

"Am I interrupting anything?" She asked, her eyes assessing both father and son. Both looked distinctly worse for wear.

"Agent Reeves...what a pleasant surprise." Gareth got up from the chair and came over to greet her with a hug.

Megan took the opportunity to warn Gareth of Dr. Bradford's impending visit and whispered in his ear. "Gigi, there's a psychiatrist on his way to talk to Colby."

Gareth barely nodded and released her but didn't move, shielding her from Colby's line of sight with his own body.

"I'm going to be here but he doesn't want you or Cat around." Megan continued, quietly.

Another brief nod. "He doesn't want CeeJay holding back. I got it. Thank you." Gareth said, his own voice level matching Megan's.

She nodded in response.

Gareth turned around and walked back to his son's bedside. "CeeJay, I'm off to track down your mother and get something to eat. Be back in a few."

Colby nodded. "Are you bringing it back here?"

"Not if I can help it." Gareth winked at Colby. "We are going to have a real meal, at a real table with real utensils. Even if it is only in the hospital cafeteria." He looked at Megan who hadn't moved from the doorway. "Can you keep him out of trouble Megan?"

She grinned and nodded. "I think so. If I can't, I'll tell on him to his mother."

Gareth laughed and lightly squeezed Colby's arm. "Behave, CeeJay." He walked out of the room, past Megan and down the hallway.

She came in to the room and walked over to the bed, sitting down in the chair Gareth had recently vacated. She looked Colby over and was glad she had asked Dr. Bradford to come. He looked on the edge of ... something ... that wouldn't be good for anyone. They sat there, staring at each other, not saying a word but that was okay.

"Megan?" Colby being the first to break the silence.

"Yeah?"

"Who did CPR on me?" Colby asked. "Was it you?"

Megan studied his face for another long moment before answering. He deserved to know. "No, it wasn't me. It was Don and David. I came in on the scene last, saw what was happening and took off to get the medic."

Colby blinked, surprise flooding his face.

"Not who you were expecting?" she asked, gently.

Colby shook his head. "Nnnnooooo." He swallowed. "Don I could see but David--? I thought..." He looked away from her.

Megan watched the emotions playing across his face. It broke her heart. She touched him lightly on the arm making him look back at her. "Colby, you've got to give it time. Time for both you and David." Her lips quirked in a smile, "As corny as that sounds." He nodded. "I'll also tell you that when I came in the room and they were trying to revive you, they called you by your first name. If they truly thought you were a traitor, then why bother calling you by your given name? Why bother trying to revive you at all?"

Colby didn't have an answer to that.

The silence resumed. Colby lost in his thoughts, Megan giving him the time he needed.

"Why did you all come out there after me in the first place?" Colby asked, breaking the silence again.

Megan grinned. "Your friend and mine."

"Charlie? Did he name a variance after me?"

She laughed and said "I don't know but he had a..." Words failed her for a moment. "...A thing that he called a 'Trust Metric'. The idea being that..."

"You could tell whether or not I was trustworthy through math?" Colby asked.

"Hey, it worked. Of course, we were already kinda moving in that direction anyway. And before you ask 'what direction', the direction that you really were just deep undercover."

"Even David?"

She nodded. "Even David."

Another knock on the doorframe and the clearing of a throat made both of them look toward the doorway.

"May I come in?" Dr. Bradford said.

Colby wasn't sure who the guy was, but Megan seemed to know him from the look on her face. "Sure, come on in, Dr. Bradford." She said.

"Good morning, Agent Reeves." Dr. Bradford said. He turned his gaze to Colby. "Good morning, Agent Granger. You look a bit better than what I heard."

Colby snorted. "Not too hard to look better than dead."

A smile hovered at Dr. Bradford's lips. "You didn't tell me he was witty, Agent Reeves."

Megan shook her head. "This is mild ... you should hear him at crime scenes. Sometimes I feel like I'm working in the middle of tryouts for Last Comic Standing."

It was Dr. Bradford's turn to snort. "Always good to have a back-up plan."

He saw an empty chair over by the door and settled into it.

Colby was confused. This guy was, according to Megan, a doctor, but he didn't look like any of the docs he'd seen around the unit and Doc Mosely hadn't said anything about another doc coming in to see him. "Don't take this wrong, but who the heck are you?"

"Dr. William Bradford, psychiatrist to LEO's."

"Okay, that I get ... why are you here?"

"Colby, this is the psychiatrist that Don's been seeing." Megan said.

"Yeah? Well, good for him. That, however, doesn't answer my question: Why are you here?"

"'Cause I had nothing else to do with my time this afternoon." Bradford quipped. "Think, Agent Granger, why would I be here?"

He thought for a moment, then looked over at Megan who looked a little ill at ease, then back to Bradford. "She called you in. Guess its' not enough that I nearly died, now you're sic'ing shrinks on me?"

Dr. Bradford shrugged. "Could be worse. They could've waited until you climbed up to the top of a building and starting picking people off."

Colby tried not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway. "Doc, no offense, but that is not how I would go - if I were going to go in the first place."

"So...you do have a sense of humor. That's good, that's a start. Agent Reeves is here by my request, so if you're going to snarl at someone, snarl at me. I'm used to it."

Megan, wisely, said nothing.

He slid down a bit deeper into the mattress; he had never been comfortable taking with shrinks, not even back in the Army where it had been 'mandatory' to speak with a head-doc after a 'bad' firefight or particularly nasty investigation. "I don't mind Megan staying but I'm not sure I'm ready for this crap."

Dr. Bradford studied Colby for a long moment before starting up the conversation again. "Being undercover is a real bitch. No one understands what's in your head."

He stared at Bradford, his eyes narrowing. "Megan - close your ears." She didn't even move so Colby decided to speak his mind anyway. "What the fuck would a gawddamn brain-reamer like you know about fucking undercover work?"

Bradford almost smiled. "LAPD narcotics and me for eight gawdamn years."

"Yeah?" Colby sat up and leaned over toward Bradford, his heart starting to pound, the heart rate monitor increasing in tone. "Okay, bet I can name one major difference between you and I."

"Please do."

"I bet you volunteered for the work. I got dragged into it against my better judgment." He sat back, his arms crossing his chest, looking for all the world like an irritated two-year old.

Bradford chuckled. "Yes and no. Agent Granger, I'm a black man who worked for the LAPD, back when there were few of us on the force who weren't scarred by the Watts Riots. What do you think? If there was a shit assignment, and no one lower than me on the seniority pole, I got it."

"Whoopee for you." Colby decided he wasn't sure he wanted to have this conversation anymore and suspected, highly, that Megan had something to do with his dad leaving when he did. "What's the worse that would've happened to you if you'd said 'no' to the assignment?"

Bradford's eyes glittered. "Use your imagination, Agent Granger."

"I'm just a country boy from the back woods of Idaho, I ain't got that good of an imagination." Colby hadn't spent years in Special Ops not to know a Psych Op when he heard one.

Bradford laughed. "Oh ... you're good. I'll give you that." He looked down at his watch. "Are you done bitching?"

"I dunno, you gonna stop beating around the damn bush and tell me why you're really here? 'Cause, frankly Doc, I can play this head game with you and a whole battalion of shrinks all freaking week."

Bradford looked over at Megan. "Where does Eppes find you people?"

"Hey, I'm not sure about Granger, but I know that I was sent to Eppes on Jason Gideon's recommendation."

"And he is blessed to have you. I'm going to remind him of that, the next time I see him. You're the only normal one in the group." Bradford groused.

"Ha!" Colby laughed. "Megan, you've got to tell me how you snowball people like that."

She just smiled.

"Now as for why I'm here," Bradford pulled Colby's attention back off Megan and onto himself, "I'm here to talk with Colby Granger."

"Talk all you want, Doc. I'll listen. May not respond too much, but I'll listen."

"Well, that's some progress, possibly your first answer without being a smart ass."

"It was a lapse, trust me."

Bradford shook his head. "Tell me something, Granger, why did you leave the Army?"

"Honestly?" Colby asked and then continued when Bradford nodded. "I'd finished my Associate's Degree in History and didn't want to go through OCS. I was due to re-up and my commander pretty much said if I did, he'd have to recommend me to Officer Candidate's School and, well, I'm sorry if this offends anyone, but I don't much care for officers."

Bradford nodded again. "Understandable, being more than an underling can be a real hassle." He said it without sarcasm. "Why did you join the Bureau?"

A real smile crossed Colby's lips. "That was Code's doing. He suggested I apply when I was in Washington DC between duty stations."

"Code?"

"Sorry, Cody William, my brother."

"Why did he suggest that? What in you made him think 'Yeah, he could be a fed'?"

"He's one? Code's in - of all things – the crypto department at the Hoover Building. Plus being a FBI agent isn't supposed to be all that different from what I did in CID with the Army."

"Do you regret joining? I don't mean the undercover work thing, I mean do you regret that you took your brother's advice and joined?"

"Do I regret joining the Bureau?" Colby didn't respond for a few minutes, then finally answered. "No, I don't think so. I'm not sure. Yes. No. Maybe. These last two years have sucked."

"Had you not been on an undercover assignment, would you have any reservations about joining?" Bradford left his notepad alone; he simply sat and listened.

"I honestly don't know." Colby shook his head. "There have been times where I felt like I was doing real agent stuff, and it felt right, but then something would happen and the whole undercover shit would blow back up in my face."

Bradford nodded. "If you quit, what would you do? What would your next job be?"

"Don't know, don't really care either. I could always move back home and go to work for one of departments up there. Valley County extended an open invitation to me to come to work there when I was last home."

"As what?"

"A deputy. Field patrol at first, then, maybe later if I wanted it, detective."

"So, law enforcement, correct?"

"Yeah."

"So why don't you? Quit that is. No one would blame you if you did resign. You certainly earned it."

"Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind, Doc. Especially when I was pretty much told I'd either play ball with Counter-Intelligence or get washed out of Quantico."

Bradford whistled. "You're not the first to get screwed by the Feds but you know that. Do you want to stay in the Bureau?"

Colby didn't answer. The silence stretched out for a while but he wasn't sure what his answer could, should or would be if he could just untangle the undercover crap from all the rest of his FBI experiences.

"Colby?" Megan's voice broke into his reverie and he looked at her. He'd actually forgotten she was sitting in on the session.

"You really don't want to know. It's not real clear, even to me, and it's my thoughts."

"Maybe if you talked it out?" She suggested.

Colby nodded. Megan was sharp, that had never been in doubt. "It's like this: I love working with the team, Don's one of the best bosses I've ever had, you and David are the type of teammates I'd back straight into hell's fires ... but everything is tangled up in what I had to do or say to maintain my cover. That damn assignment has tainted everything."

"Has it?" Bradford asked.

"Five weeks ago, I was, in pretty much everyone's minds, exactly what I appeared to be. A traitor. A role I played to the hilt, even though it wasn't supposed to happen when it did and caught me unprepared--" Colby bit his lip. There was so much he still wasn't sure was cleared for dissemination and he wasn't about to spill too much without knowing just how high Bradford's clearance level was.

He knew Megan's was high enough. Barely. Colby raised an eyebrow at the shrink. "Doc, you're good. Damn good. But until you can give me proof of your clearance level ... I'm not saying anything more that might lead back to the assignment. Sorry." He shrugged and then answered the man's underlying question. "I still feel like I'm winging it and I'm not really sure who the hell I am. Am I the supposed traitor of five weeks back, or am I the agent I 'pretended' to be for the last two years and too damn many days?"

"Okay. At the risk of being blindingly obvious, who do you want to be?" Bradford asked.

"I'm not sure."

Bradford raised an eyebrow. "What would be easier for you? Not for those around you but you, yourself."

"I wasn't happy being undercover, but I'm not sure that being 'just an agent' is in the cards for me."

"Why not? You said that when you were in the field, it felt right."

"Yeah, it did. But now that it's 'out there' that I was undercover, no one is going to know if they can trust me. Even if I transferred to another field office, this crap is going to follow me like stink on shit." Megan let out a most unladylike snort, but Colby ignored her and kept talking to Bradford. "As for taking Sheriff Leland up on his offer ... I'm seriously tempted. Except for one minor drawback."

"Which is?"

"I don't want to leave Los Angeles."

"Then you got a problem, don't cha?" Bradford's smile was, Colby was sure, supposed to be part reassuring and part humored, but it ended up just being sarcastic. Something he could appreciate.

"And it gets worse."

"How so?"

"Cause while I don't want to leave LA ... I really don't want to leave the FBI Field Office here."

"I'd rather not have you leave either." Megan said.

Colby didn't, quite, laugh but he didn't exactly hide the fact that Megan's words affected him. He'd lied to her since they'd both been assigned to Eppes' team and yet; here she was, willing to let him stay on in spite of everything. The pressure built up - rather suddenly - behind his eyes and he felt his throat tighten. He didn't know if it was the damn drugs still in his system he was reacting to or her words were truly affecting him that much. "Thanks, Megan." He finally managed to get out, smiling at her.

"So, you don't want to leave LA, you don't want to leave the Bureau but you think you will have to, correct?" Bradford interrupted the mini-bonding moment between the two one time and future teammates.

"Yeah, that about sums it up." Colby said.

"Let me tell you something a sociology professor I had as an undergrad told me once. 'Never explain. Your friends don't need it, your enemies won't believe it.' Now, that doesn't take in account your boss or anything like that, but if you want to stay say something. Don't just accept what you think is inevitable because you think people will always be looking at you. You do not strike me as the kind of person who just accepts whatever hand fate deals them."

"Not usually, no." Colby agreed with him.

"Then don't that this time. If you want to stay, do something about it. From what I am given to understanding, you and the rest of Eppes team are pretty much untouchable, for the moment anyway. Anything you want, you know--" The doctor shrugged and gave a wry grin.

Colby snorted in laughter for real this time. "So, what your saying is, right now, Don Eppes' shit don't stink and, by association, anyone connected to his team doesn't either?

Bradford looked at Megan. "Is he usually this quick?"

She nodded.

"Doc, that's all well and good but, technically, while I was assigned to Eppes' team, I'm not really a part of the team."

"Yes, you are." Bradford held up a hand. "I'm not arguing, I'm stating a fact. You took orders from Agent Eppes, you worked cases under his supervision, and you were listed as member of his team. Were I to go and ask anyone about you, they would say that you were a member of Agent Eppes team."

"Yeah, well, Megan here might accept that, and Don himself might, eventually, come to understand what I did I had to do--" He looked over at Megan. "But, unless you tell me he was hurt in the raid that pulled my ass out of the fire, why would David save my life and then not come by? He hasn't given me a chance to explain..."

Megan shook her head. "No, he wasn't hurt, Colby. Almost passed out after the Coasties hauled you off, but otherwise he was physically okay."

Bradford rolled his eyes toward the heavens. "I can see I should probably do a team dynamic meeting once the dust from this incident settles."

Colby looked at the doctor. "What makes you say that?"

"About the only person I haven't talked with, other than Reeves here, is the one who gave up a standing appointment with me to shove another member of his team on me."

Megan nodded. "Don. He probably didn't have a lot of time to himself today anyway, Doctor

Bradford. He's been hauled from one meeting to the next since we got back on shore yesterday."

"I can see why." Bradford looked back at Colby. "Do you have any idea of what went on in order to get you back?" He looked at Megan. "Does he?"

"Probably not. Colby?"

He shook his head. "Bits and pieces, snatches of conversations, what little you told me and just what ... well, what happened before I died." He let out a mocking chuckle. "Man, that sounds so freaking lame. Like I rose like Lazarus or something."

"The Prodigal Son." Megan supplied

"Agent Eppes, the man you didn't really work for and probably doesn't want you back, raised not only the Coast Guard but the Department of Homeland Security, two teams of HRT agents from the L.A. field office, and the Los Angeles Port Police to track down and stop one," Bradford held up a single finger "Chinese freighter before it reached international waters. And he did all that because ... wait for it ... he knew his agent, who was on board, was not the traitor he'd pretended to be. Also from what I've heard, Agent Eppes, the man who is not your boss, has spent the better part of two days now, explaining himself to just about every Alphabet agency out there in Fed Land. I'm surprised he hasn't had to explain himself to the U.N. Although, I'm not so sure that won't happen anyway."

Colby had, during this tirade of Bradford's, grown much smaller in the bed, yet, felt like there was a huge weight that lifted off his shoulders. Still he couldn't just let it be. "So he decided I was trustworthy after all, huh?" He didn't so much direct the question at the doctor, but at Megan.

Megan nodded.

"I suppose Charlie's trust metric wasn't needed to convince him either?"

"Nope."

He shook his head. "I guess it stuck after all."

"What stuck?" Megan asked.

"You were off at the DOJ and Don decided to team with me on a case - part of it was case related but, well, I kinda threw a 'trust issue' in his face. He didn't bite my head off, but he wasn't real happy with me for doing that." Colby shrugged, and then had to pull the damn hospital gown back up. "I would rather have told Don what I was up to right from the start, I immediately trusted him that much, but Kirkland refused to hear my reasoning behind that."

"That's the government for you." Bradford said.

Colby shook his head. "No, I'm pretty sure it was more than that. Kirkland was my handler, sure, but I'm also positive about who knew about my assignment and who didn't. It was very tightly run, so tight I had to slip out of town..." He shut down again.

Bradford nodded. "Believe it or not, I don't need to know everything, Granger."

"Hell, you'll probably be cleared to hear anyway, Doc. I went back home, in disguise, and talked to my father - warned him actually."

"Did you tell your mother?" The look on Colby's face answered that question for Bradford's eyebrow went up like a warning flag.

"You clearly have not met my mom, Doc. I have never been able to hide the truth from her, never. She's got a genetic advantage or something when it comes to ferreting out the truth."

Megan laughed. "It's called having a double XX chromosome, Granger. Add to that the fact she's your mother and moms are notorious for being able to ferret out the truth, no matter what."

"No - it's more than that, trust me, Megan. When you meet her, you'll see."

"All right, this is my diagnosis. You have a determination that you have to make for yourself. How badly do you want to stay here? How badly do you want to keep your job with the people you've worked with? What are you willing to do to keep your job? Find that out and you'll be a whole closer to knowing what to do with yourself." Bradford looked down at his watch, and then stood. "All right, Agent Granger, that's enough for today. I'll be back in a couple of days and we continue. You survived, didn't you?"

Colby managed another smile. "Yeah, you're not bad for a shrink. Too bad there weren't more like you when I was still active duty." He held a hand up and Bradford shook it with a firm grip even though it set flares of pain up his arm. "Doc, thanks. I'll think about what you said."

"I would hope so. Otherwise all that time and money I spent, or rather the government spent for me, will have gone to waste." He smiled. "My secretary will be calling here and setting up an appointment with you." Bradford looked at Megan. "Agent Reeves, I am going to be making this up to my secretary for the next six months but you did the right thing in calling." He left before Megan could reply.

Colby waited until Megan turned back around to face him to say what was on his mind. "Thanks. I'm not sure what tipped you off, but--" His eyelids drooped. That he had managed to stay awake for the entire conversation with Dr. Bradford amazed him. "You gonna stay 'til Mom and Dad get back?"

"I'll be here." She smiled and admitted, "I look forward to meeting your mother. Go on and get some sleep and you're welcome, Colby."

"Wear your vest." Colby offered before dropping off to sleep.


	16. Chapter 15 Damn Drugs

**Part Fifteen - ****Damn Drugs**

The drugs Lancer had used on him had so utterly fouled up Colby's system that his previously established sleep pattern had gone completely snafu. He dozed off and on, sleeping for maybe an hour or so, the smallest things waking him up. When he woke up, there was no telling who would be there. Most of the time it was his parents, some times it was someone from the team, occasionally it was a nurse. The sound of metal on metal brought him awake. He blinked and shifted in bed, catching sight of…

"David?" He croaked but the oxygen mask was in the way and the man couldn't hear him. He took it off and tried again. "David?"

The man did not respond. He finished whatever task he was doing, Colby couldn't tell, and left the room.

"David?!" Colby called after him. //_Oh, damn. He's not talking to me…I was too good of an actor…I gotta talk to him…make him understand_.//

The fact that he could hardly move let alone sit up did not slow him at all, at least in his mind. He struggled to sit up, quickly exhausting himself. //_Why can't I get up?! He's leaving_…// The more he tried to move, the weaker he got and that only added to his panic.

* * *

Gareth came into his son's room just in time to witness Colby's struggles. He put his cup of coffee down on the nearest flat surface and came over to Colby's bed. Remembering what he had been told about his son's hypersensitive nerves, and not wanting to cause him any more pain than necessary, he wouldn't touch Colby unless he had to.

"Colby James, what are you doing?" he said.

At the sound of his voice, Colby stopped struggling. He looked up at Gareth, confusion all over his face. "David was just here but he wouldn't talk to me."

It broke Gareth's heart to see his son in such a state. //_Gawdamn drugs, Gawdamn Lancer, damn Carter_.// His anger rose, bubbling up to the surface but he pushed it down inside. Colby was confused enough as it was, no sense in making it worse.

"CeeJay, David's at work." Gareth said, gently.

Colby frowned and shook his head. "But, I just… he was just here, I saw him."

"No, he came early this morning on his way in and he swore to me, he swore to your mother, that he'd be back after work but he's not here now."

Colby's frown deepened. "But, but, I…I saw him."

"Hang on, hang on…" Gareth held up a hand. There was only one way to ease his son's confusion. He reached for the bedside phone next to Colby. Holding the receiver in one hand, he dug David's business card from his wallet. If he was lucky, David would be at the office and he wouldn't have to track the man down by cell phone.

"_Agent Sinclair_." David answered on the second ring.

//_Thank you_.// Gareth silently gave thanks. "David, it's Gigi. Nothing's wrong. Could you talk to Colby for a moment?"

There was a long moment of silence before Gareth got a response. "_Sure. Put him on_."

Gareth handed the receiver to his son. "Someone wants to talk to you."

"Hello?" Colby took the receiver from his father.

"_Colby, man, you giving your dad a hard time again? Stop doing that_." David said.

Colby chuckled weakly. "You at work?"

"_Yeah. I was at the hospital this morning but I couldn't stay long. You wouldn't believe the paper work we've had to deal with. It's worse than normal_."

"What else is new?" His words came out far slower than normal.

David laughed in return. "_Listen, I told your dad and your mom that I'd be by later today. After I dig myself out from under this stack_."

Colby swallowed. "You did?"

"_I did. I don't want to hack off your mom. She's kinda scary, you know_."

Another weak chuckle. "Can you blame her?"

"_Can't say as I do. You think you can stay out of trouble and give your dad a break, at least until I come by_?"

"Sure…no promises after that…" Colby's eyelids started to droop. Gareth held out his hand for the phone. "M'dad wants the phone back." He was asleep almost before Gareth could take the receiver back.

"David? Gigi again. Thanks. I'll explain later. "

"_No explanation needed, Gigi. I'll be there as soon as I can_."

"We'll be waiting." Gareth replaced the receiver and sank down into the bedside chair. What had brought _that_ on?

"Chief Granger, everything all right?" The nurse assigned to Colby poked her head in the room. "Todd didn't mention anything when he came through a few minutes ago."

The light bulb went on for Gareth. "He wouldn't be a tallish, black man, kinda muscular and bald, would he?"

"That's Todd to a T."

Gareth nodded. "No, no problems at all."

The nurse left.

Gareth looked over at his son. "We're going to get through this CeeJay, all of us."

* * *

A _S__itting with Colby _schedule sprouted into existence overnight. Don, Megan, Alan, Charlie and even Amita had volunteered to keep Colby company throughout the day so he wouldn't be alone when Cat and Gareth just couldn't sit in uncomfortable hospital chairs any longer. It was gratefully received. When Don appeared early that afternoon, Cat almost wept with relief. Her back had been bothering her all morning but she wasn't about to leave her baby alone, not even Gareth's assurances that he would stay right by Colby's side could get her to leave.

Don's arrival was the tipping point in her mind. She finally caved, took the heavier pain medication and limped off to the private room set aside for families of the critically ill patients to lie down.

"Thank you." Gareth said, clapping Don on the shoulder, before following his wife down the hallway, looking a bit worse for wear himself, carrying a heating pad supplied by Dr. Mosely.

Don nodded. It was the least he could do. He waited until Gareth was out of the room before settling into one of the chairs near Colby's bed. He plenty to keep him occupied, first and foremost the report for Director Hoffman, detailing his actions. He had hardly started it and was, quickly, running out of time. Almost an hour later, he had made it to page three. He looked up from the report just in time to see Colby wake up. He saw Don but not his parents and frowned, confusion on his face.

"Your mom went to lie down. Her back's acting up. Your dad went with her." Don said. The look of confusion on Colby's face was down right depressing. //_Don't give up on him now_.// A little voice whispered in Don's head. //_This too shall pass_.//

Colby nodded slowly, pulling the oxygen mask off so he could be heard clearly. "Mom's got everyone lined up, huh?"

"Did you expect anything else? Your mom's kinda scary, you know that Colby?" Don told the younger agent.

"I keep being told that but it's not news to me. I grew up with her. Cat Granger was, no - IS, a legend in Valley County." Colby shifted around in the bed so he could, at least, attempt to look Don in the eye.

"I can see why. We need to get her to come work for the Bureau."

"Uh, no ... she's pissed enough that Cody and I are working for an 'agency'...there's no way she'd do it herself." Colby chuckled, "Besides, she'd ace Edgerton out of a job as a sniper instructor."

Don laughed. "She would probably scare Edgerton."

"Maybe. Or adopt him."

"You want another brother?"

"No..." Colby shook his head, trying to shake off the melancholy that suddenly settled over his mind.

Don frowned. Just that quick, Colby had gone from being happy to being…well, it was hard to describe. "What'd I say?"

"Nothin'. Just suddenly tired, that's all. Damn shit that son of a bitch pumped into me is still wrecking havoc on my sleep cycle."

Don nodded and looked down at his watch. Charlie should be showing up in the next couple of minutes. "Why don't you back to sleep? I'm not going anywhere, at least not yet."

Colby nodded and, after a few restless movements, seemed to drop off to sleep without much effort. Don shook his head, Colby might not have said anything, but it didn't take a genius like Charlie to figure out something was still bothering Granger. Nor did it take a leap in logic to put two and two together and get less than once a day yet more than none. Maybe, just maybe, getting David into see Bradford that morning would be the beginning of the recovery for his team. Don could only hope.

"Don?" His brother spoke from the doorway.

"Hey, Charlie." He stood up, trying to shake off his mood.

"Amita practically threw me out the door so I could get here on time. Millie sends her best wishes too." Charlie came into Colby's room and set down his messenger bag. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing best as he can, considering. The drugs that were ... they're still taking a toll. He can't seem to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a stretch."

Charlie nodded. "You said the bastard that did this is dead? Really dead?"

"Yeah, Charlie. Chest blown apart by a hollow point."

"Good. Better than he deserved." Charlie settled into a chair near the door and opened his bag, pulling out a stack of papers and a red pen.

Don couldn't help but agree with his brother, but it still bothered him that Charlie actually thought that way and hadn't even flinched when he'd described how Lancer had died. "You sure you want to sit here until Cat and Gigi come back?"

"Absolutely. I've got plenty to keep me busy." He waved at the stack of papers. "Freshmen and calculus. Fun." He grinned.

"Yeah, well, better you than me, they might actually pass if I graded their work." He clasped Charlie's shoulder before heading to the door. "Thanks for volunteering to sit with Colby. I'll be by the house or back by here after a while. One more 'Very Idiotic Person' wants to talk to me about the fickle finger of fate I tossed in China's face."

Charlie looked up at his brother. "Give 'em Hell, bro."

"Plan on it." Don left, feeling a little better. Even if this incident stalled his career, or killed it, he knew he had done the right thing and that's what counted.

* * *

Two passes with the red pen and another paper was graded.

"Jeez, Carson, were you in the same classroom as me?" Charlie muttered. He went to the next paper and the next and the next, all with the same result. He shook his head in disgust and put the papers away. It was too depressing to go any further. "What the hell are they teaching in high school nowadays?"

He glanced at Colby, still asleep. "At least someone appreciates my work." He stood and came over to the bed. "Or not." Guilt started to gnaw at his soul. "Colby, I'm so sorry, if I hadn't persisted in breaking Ashby's damn code, none of this would've ever happened."

"Yes, it wuld've." Colby's voice rasped at him.

"You're awake?!" Charlie just about went through the ceiling.

"Yeah, kinda ... sorta." Colby pulled the oxygen mask off.

"Would it be a dumb question to ask how you're feeling?"

"Like death warmed over." Colby struggled to reach for the bed controls; he clearly wanted to sit up to talk. Charlie got to them first and lifted the head of the bed just enough.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. I've had way more practice in using them then anyone needs to have." Charlie gnawed on his lower lip. "Colby? What did you mean by 'Yes, it would've.' Without finding out who was on the list then..."

"Ashby owed my family a favor. My name on that list was a payback. The other names ... those were real but he refused to tell me who they were, other than Carter of course."

"So...you name was a plant?"

"Knew you'd catch on."

"But-- what if I hadn't? If I hadn't, you wouldn't have been arrested and none of this would have happened." Charlie persisted.

"Yes it would've. Ashby called me before he left to catch David's attention on the bridge and told me he was dying and it was going down. He also said that if YOU couldn't break his encryption, the list would 'time out' and be sent to Don, in the clear, in an email."

"Really?" Charlie was both relieved, and further perplexed. "Then what was all that stuff on the bridge?"

"Cover. I had to act like I didn't know what was coming so that I would be arrested."

Charlie didn't want to push Colby too much but he too confused not to. He frowned. "You knew this would happen and you let it happen anyway?"

"Charlie ... I had to get back on Carter's good side. It was part of the plan. The Op." Colby looked past Charlie's shoulder and nodded at him. "Professor, close the door, would you? You can hear this, but no one else can until everything is cleared up."

Charlie looked over his shoulder. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the whole story.

"You already know more than you think you do." Colby stated, teasing Charlie into needing to know.

"You could've gotten Don killed. You could've gotten ME killed." Charlie said, frowning.

"Charlie, Don almost got Don killed. And you. Taylor was not going to activate a bomb near you that would hurt you or Don. Trust me, the last thing you do around bombs like Ashby made is wave a shotgun and, worse, fire it. Don did both and the impact set off a bomb."

"Maybe if he had known, he wouldn't have done what he did. Don was acting on what he knew." Charlie said, determined to defend his brother.

"Do you really believe I would put either of you in harm's way deliberately?" Colby's question was quiet and Charlie knew the answer before he had finished speaking.

He swallowed and looked away. "No." It then occurred to him that arguing with Colby was probably not the best thing for the stricken man right now. //_Shut up and do what the man asked, Charlie_.// The little voice inside his head said. So, he went and closed the door to the room.

"Two years ago, give or take a few months, you were called to Washington, D.C. for a super secret meeting with Director Joseph Atwater. Operation Stalking Horse."

Charlie looked at Colby, startled to hear one of his covert consultations being so casually bantered about by a young agent. Charlie's eyes widened. No wonder he had asked Charlie to close the door. No knew about Operation Stalking Horse. No one.

"There were three people in the room when you were called in. Joe Atwater, Mike Kirkland and someone else who refused to step out of the shadows."

Charlie swallowed again. He had always thought that whoever it had been had watched a few too many spy movies. "That was you?"

"Yeah. Needless to say, the first time Don called you in on a case I damn near blew my cover. I had never been told 'The Professor's' name. Just that he, you, could set things up, mathematically, to make me a really juicy target for whomever it was pulling Dwayne's strings."

Charlie snorted a laugh. No wonder Colby looked at him the first time they met like he'd seen a ghost.

"It wasn't hard to make the target tempting ... connections to various government intelligence agencies through family or friends, including a totally bogus connection to one of the early US Spy masters in Argentina..."

Colby cleared his throat. "Not bogus. My grandfather. Mom's side."

"Really?" Charlie almost disgraced himself by squeaking.

Colby laughed. Well, he started to, but the spasms that kept ripping through his diaphragm from the damn tubocurrae suddenly made breathing very difficult.

"Colby?" Charlie watched in horror as the other man struggled to take a breath.

Colby waved him off, motioning for him to open the door. He did, just as a nurse bolted into the room. She found Colby not using the mask, slapped the thing back on his face, cranked up the knob on the oxygen system and hit the call button

Charlie just got the heck out of the way.

"Michelle! Sedative and relaxants now!" The nurse shouted.

In less than a minute, another nurse careened into the room and was instantly at Colby's side, injecting something direct into his IV line. "Meds in. Colby, breath, try to relax . . . we've got you, you're not going anywhere."

Charlie's eyes widened again. //_Oh, damn. Gareth's going to throttle me. I'm supposed to be watching him, not making him worse_.//

It seemed to take forever but eventually color returned to Colby's face and his breathing smoothed out. The smile he graced on the nurses was half-hearted, like he was too tired to even flirt, which was NOT the Colby Granger Charlie had grown to admire over the last few years.

"Um...I'll...I'll wait outside. You really should be resting anyway." Charlie mumbled.

Colby shook his head. "A couple of minutes, please?" He asked one of the nurses.

The nurse on the left eyed Charlie, then nodded. She then departed with the other nurse, clearly not happy that her patient wasn't going to rest immediately.

Colby motioned for Charlie to come back over to the bed.

"Colby, I don't want to make you worse. Your dad will kill me if I do."

"Just wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"Jus' for be'ng here." And before Charlie could respond beyond that, Colby's eyes drifted shut.

"You rest, Colby ... I'm not leaving until someone comes to relieve me." Charlie sat down in the lounge chair near Colby's bedside and watched as the respirator monitor maintained a smooth, steady rhythm in time with each of Granger's breaths.


	17. Chapter 16 Why Am I Here?

**Part Sixteen - ****Why Am I Here? **

All the way up to the CCU, David chewed on his lower lip. Despite everyone's assurances, including Dr. Bradford's, he still thought he was the last person on the planet Colby wanted to see. Why would he want to see the man who called him a traitor? The man who thought--

David shook his head, refusing to let his mind go down _that _road again. He had promised to come by and he was going to keep his word; especially after the weird phone call from Chief Granger earlier that afternoon.

The elevator dinged at the right floor, the doors opened and David had no choice but to step out and walk down the hall. The distance was short and he found himself looking in the window to Colby's room again but this time, he wouldn't walk away. He rapped lightly on the doorframe, getting Cat's attention. She looked up from her book and gave David a big smile.

"David! You finally got free from work. Come in, come in." She started to stand but he waved her back down.

Taking a deep breath, he walked into the room and over to Cat. Colby was asleep, with an oxygen mask covering the lower part of his face just like early that morning. The array of machines around him hadn't gone away and were blinking and bleeping like some bizarre background chorus. David looked down at Cat, concerned about the weariness that permeated her, a weariness that was equal parts fatigue and pain, both physical and emotional.

She offered him a smile, took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze before letting go. "Thank you for coming."

David swallowed. Now he had the guilt with a side of embarrassment. What the Hell was he doing here? "After this morning, how could I not? I've been told that you're a crack shot."

Cat tittered. "You've been talking with Gareth."

Before David could respond, Colby stirred and woke up. His unfocused gaze roamed the room for a moment before landing on his mother.

"Baby," Cat smiled, touching his cheek very lightly. "How are you feeling?"

Colby blinked and grimaced.

David looked away, his embarrassment increasing in witnessing the tenderness between Colby and his mother. He would have left but Cat nailed him with such a look, he just couldn't. When he looked over at the bed, Colby had taken the mask off and was looking at him, the grey-green gaze almost as penetrating as his mother's.

"This is the second time David's been here today, CeeJay." Cat told him.

Confusion rippled across Colby's face almost as if he was trying to place David. Finally, he licked his lips and said, "Where've you been, man?" His voice was thick from sleep and whatever medication he was on, and any residual effects of the drugs which had been used on him.

David grinned. "I've been at work. Some of us don't have the luxury of lying around in bed all day."

That earned him an anemic smile. It was so easy to slip back into the needling and teasing, so easy to forget the past five weeks and act like nothing had happened. Silence fell, stretching out and filling up the room until Cat broke the silence by standing up.

"If you two think you can behave for a few minutes, I'm going to use the facilities. I'll be back shortly." She said to both. "CeeJay, your father has gone to get dinner. He should be back before long." She patted David on the arm and left.

"I couldn't tell anyone." Colby said, after Cat departed.

David nodded. "You do what you gotta do." He sat down in the chair Cat had been using.

"Whatever you were thinking of me, I wouldn't blame you." Colby said.

//_Yeah but _**do**_ you blame me_?// David thought.

"You believed what you were supposed to believe."

David nodded again, not meeting Colby's eyes.

"Hey, you listening to me?" Colby struggled to sit up.

"Man, you are not supposed to be moving around like that." David said. He stood and, forgetting Colby's hypersensitive nerves, made him lie down again.

Colby hissed in pain making David snatch his hands away. "Sorry." He mumbled.

"At least you finally looked me in the eye." Colby swallowed and grimaced. "You wanna be mad I didn't tell you, great. Be mad." He blinked and seemed to be trying to marshal his thoughts. "But don' beat yerself up over it…" His eyelids started to slide shut but he managed to add, "You did nothing wrong … nothing." His eyelids slid shut and he dropped off to sleep.

David slipped the mask back over Colby's nose and mouth. "If that's the case, then why do I feel like I did?" He said to no one in particular. He waited for Cat to come back, made his excuses and left.

He made no promise to return.


	18. Chapter 17 Visitors! We've Got Visitors!

**Part Seventeen – ****Visitors! We've Got Visitors! **

The next day a veritable tsunami of support for Colby washed over UCLA Medical Center. It had taken that long for word of Colby's brush with death and return to the 'right side' to pass through the LEO community. The tsunami wasn't so much a physical presence as it was a material one; one that Lieutenant Gary Walker was witness to and just a small part of.

He walked into the Critical Care Unit that morning; he immediately knew which room Granger was in. It was the one with the extra tables lined up outside the glass walls, loaded down with plants, flower bouquets, candy boxes and balloons. Lots of balloons. Shaking his head and suppressing the urge to laugh out loud, he walked over to the doorway, batting aside a errant, stray hot pink and purple Mylar monstrosity. Seeing Granger was actually awake, he knocked on the door before stepping in.

"Finally awake, Granger?" He asked before realizing there were two other people in the room. "Oh, sorry ... I can come back later."

"Lieutenant, no ... come on in." Granger called out and Gary stopped. "I'd like you to meet my folks. Catherine and Gareth Granger, this is Lieutenant Gary Walker."

"Nice to meet you." Gary shook hands with Mrs. Granger first, then with Mr. Granger, and realized the man was armed.

The elder Granger just smiled. "Chief of Police, back in Idaho."

Gary smiled and relaxed. Somehow it didn't surprise him that Agent Granger came from Police blood. "That explains the extra weight on the hip."

"Dad, you're carrying?" Colby asked, surprise coloring his words.

"Of course."

Gary nodded. "Can't say I blame him, Agent Granger. Right about now, there are probably a few people in the world who wouldn't mind seeing you dead."

Granger flushed. "Yeah, well, that almost happened anyway."

He shook his head, "Granger, any mission you can walk away from - even if it takes a while - is a good one."

"I seem to remember hearing something about that." Granger waved at someone behind Gary and he turned slightly to see his wife slipping into the room.

"Mind if I drop in?" she asked.

"Doctor Walker, come on in. Mom, Dad, this is the Lieutenant's better half - Elaine. Doc, what brings you by, other than the El-Tee here dragging you in?"

"Curiosity mostly--" Elaine smiled at Granger and Gary knew what she was about to admit to. After all, she'd sent him ahead while she snuck a peek at the Agent's records. "I took a gander at your file ... if you need or want a cardio work up later, come see me. I promise I won't bite."

"You bite?" Mrs. Granger asked, incredulous.

"Only when the patient doesn't behave." Elaine said, with a wink. "Some of them actually like it."

Gary laughed, the expression on Mrs. Granger's face was priceless, but the one on Chief Granger's face was even better. "CeeJay, you decide to see this doctor ... you might want to get your inoculations updated." The humor was there and made even more apparent when Chief Granger turned back to face Elaine. "The young'un here rarely behaves."

"Dad--!" Gary watched, fascinated, as Agent Granger blushed and tried to hide in the bed – failing completely. However, Granger was also laughing and he couldn't help but notice the looks of relief that passed between Agent Granger's parents. That told Gary that Granger's recent brush with death had been a hell of a lot closer than anyone had let on to the media.

"We won't stay long, I promised Elaine here lunch at a nice place and I dare not renege on that." Gary explained to Granger. "I just wanted to drop by and let you know - personally - that I never once believed the charges against you. Even told Elaine here that you had to be working something."

Elaine nodded. "You should've heard him when the news hit. He pretty much lost control of his mouth. I figured if Gary got that damn pissed at the vultures there was something to his theories."

"Yeah, well ... you haven't worked with this young man, Elaine. He's a good guy. Even Ché Lobo didn't permit people in his entourage to blacken Colby's name when the news of his arrest hit the airwaves." That had surprised Gary, how in the hell did Granger - squeaky clean Boy Scout Granger - get in so damn tight with a former banger like Lobo?

Granger must have seen the question on his face. "Lieutenant, sometime, once I'm out of here, remind me to tell you how I got to know Ché Lobo." Something in the young man's tone told Gary the story was a good one, but he also wouldn't tell Gary anything that might jeopardize his relationship with Santiago.

"I'll hold you to that, Granger. Elaine, we've taken up enough of the Granger family's time … you ready for lunch?" She nodded.

"Lieutenant … a moment?" Mrs. Granger asked, while holding out a spiral notebook to him. "It may seem silly, but could you and your wife please sign this? Including your mailing address too, if you don't mind. I want to make sure I send thank yous to everyone who's shown my son so much support."

Gary nodded, took the book, found a nice clean page then handed it to his wife. "Here, my handwriting is worse than yours, Elaine. You sign it for us." She was fast about it and before she handed the book back to Mrs. Granger, Gary saw that she had, for once, actually printed everything and had included both their home address as well as their PO Box address.

"Here—" Elaine returned the book. "I didn't put Gary's rank in there, but either address will work." She turned to face Agent Granger again, "I meant what I said earlier, Colby. You want a second opinion or a cardio work up, even for grins and giggles, come see me. All right?"

They exchanged good byes with the Grangers and the Walkers left the family to whatever they'd been doing before Gary had interrupted them. Curiosity finally got the best of him and Gary reached up to snag the wayward pink & purple balloon and, following the neon green ribbon it was tied to, found the attached card: _"Granger – only for you would I give up a nice looking Coastie Medic. Get better soon you lazy scut. Tim Ryan."_

Gary showed the card to Elaine who shook her head. "Yeah, I don't get it either. Must be a FBI agent I don't know."

Elaine just smiled at him and, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked out of the Critical Care Unit, chided him. "You know, there was a time when a Law Enforcement Officer in this town knew, or knew of, every other LEO in this town. It didn't matter what department or agency they worked for."

"Yeah, well those days disappeared back in the 40s and, to be honest, I'm not sure I'd want to know every fed that crawls around in this town, Elaine."

"Oh?"

Gary smiled down at her as the elevator opened as they approached. "Yeah. I prefer to pick and choose the Feds I work with. Safer that way."

* * *

That afternoon, Colby was released from the Critical Care Unit and moved to the Medical Unit on the 4th Floor for the rest of his time at UCLA. The nurses dutifully signed the book that Cat handed them and swore they would tell everyone where Colby had been moved. Had he been awake, Colby probably would have been embarrassed by all the attention so, it was probably a good thing he was asleep. Still it was a bit disorienting to wake up in a different room then when he went to sleep in but as long as someone familiar was there, he was fine.

True to their word, the nurses passed along Colby's new location and the parade of visitors continued, actually seeming to increase in numbers, and the tables set up in the Critical Care Unit were moved to Colby's new room. Mixed in with LEO's who came by to visit were civilians Colby had helped in one way or another. Some were famous, some not so famous and some who were, in law enforcement circles, infamous. Ché Lobo Santiago easily fell into the 'infamous' category. He came into the room late one afternoon while Cat was dozing in the slightly more comfortable chair and Gareth's nose was in the L.A. Times.

"How the hell does this rag stay in business?" Gareth muttered, dropping the paper on the table next to the bed. "I gotta get Doris to send the Statesman down here." He referenced Idaho's largest newspaper.

"When it's all you got, you tend to keep it around." A voice from the doorway made Gareth turn in his seat. A Hispanic man, late 20's, early 30's, with dark eyes and close-cropped hair was standing in the doorway. He was dressed casually in a golf shirt and slacks but the casual look was ruined by the damn ugliest and biggest gold chain Gareth had ever seen draped around his neck. He was alone.

Gareth stood and came over to the doorway. The man's face rang a bell and not in a good way. He eased over a couple of inches, purposely standing between the man and Colby and Cat, his hand going under his jacket.

The man's lips curled upward in a knowing smile. "You see? Even being respectable doesn't get you anywhere." He slowly held his hands out from his body, showing Gareth he was unarmed. "Nothing up my sleeve. All I have is a card and a package."

Gareth relaxed slightly but did not take his hand off his off-duty weapon.

"My name is Ché Lobo Santiago." The man said, holding his hand out. "I'm only here to see Boy Scout Granger."

"Boy Scout?" Gareth frowned. "Colby was never in ... Never mind."

Still keeping his hand on his weapon, he shook Santiago's hand and recognition clicked in. CeeJay had mentioned him and said something about how he, CeeJay, wouldn't look good in gold chains and a 'pimped out' SUV.

Behind Gareth, Cat woke up from her brief nap and instantly picked up on the vibe in the room. "Gareth? What's going on? CeeJay got another visitor?"

"May I come in?" Santiago asked.

After a long moment, Gareth nodded. "Don't even think it." He murmured as the man walked past him.

"Not at all." Santiago replied just as quietly. He walked over to the bed, with Gareth right behind him. Ché looked at Colby, asleep as usual, then over at Cat. Her look was similar to her husband's, wary but willing to be convinced otherwise. She moved to stand and he waved her back down. "No, please, don't get up." He squatted down in front of her and looked Cat in the eye. "A few months ago, your son saved my son. I came to see how he was doing."

Cat's eyes widened, then she smiled. "Thank you. How is your son?"

Santiago smiled. "Typical ten year old. Ten going on thirty-five."

Cat laughed. "They have a tendency to act like that." She would have added more but a look from Gareth stopped her.

"I sure you've heard this many times already but I never believed your son was guilty of anything except maybe his choice of jobs."

Cat's eyes lit up. "Thank you."

"After what he saw with me and the way he acted..." Santiago shook his head. "No freakin' way."

Cat nodded. "Could you sign this book? I'm going to send everyone who came by a note." She held up a spiral notebook and handed it to him along with a pen.

Santiago looked over his shoulder at Gareth. A look passed between them, then Santiago stood, took the notebook and the pen and quickly scribbled something on the first clean page he found. He handed both back to Cat. "Your son is a good man. I kinda hope my boy grows up to be like him."

Gareth snorted and got a dirty look from Cat.

Santiago grinned. "On that, I think I'll go." He turned to leave but turned back. "I told Colby that if he ever needed anything to just say the word. The offer still stands." He looked over at Gareth. "See? Nothing happened. I'm leaving."

Gareth gave him a curt nod and watched Santiago leave the room. A breath he didn't know he had been holding came out in a rush and he sat back down in the chair he'd been in before Santiago's appearance.

Cat eyed him. "What was that all about?"

* * *

It seemed to Colby that every time he woke up, there was something new in the room. New cards or more plants or balloons. But none was quite as touching as the card his mother handed him when he woke up the afternoon of the 3rd day.

"Your father didn't seem to like him too much but I thought he was quite nice." She told Colby.

He nodded. With Ché Lobo's reputation it was no wonder his dad's 'bad guy radar' had gone off.

Cat handed him an envelope and a small box.

"You sure you want to open that without having the bomb squad look at it first?" Gareth asked, only half kidding.

Cat shot him a dirty look and Colby shook his head. "Nah, Dad, it's all good."

He opened the envelope first and pulled out a plain sheet of notebook paper. He read the writing once, then a second time and broke out into a wide smile. "How cool." He murmured

"Who's it from, Baby?" Cat asked. She had no compunctions about invading her son's privacy.

"Ché Lobo's son, Joe." He paused, and then added. "Long story, Mom."

"Aren't they all?" Cat responded.

"What's the young man say, CeeJay?" Gareth asked.

"He's not confessing to stealing money from the school's band fund drive." Colby said, needling his father.

Gareth, caught off guard, barked out a laugh.

"_Dear Agent Granger..._" Colby said, reading the letter out loud. "_Dad told me that you were really sick and that I should write you a get well card. So, here it is. I hope you get better soon. It sucks to be sick. Well, not unless you're really, really sick. Otherwise, you get to stay home from school and watch TV and do stuff you wouldn't get a chance to do otherwise. But since you're an adult, you'd get to stay home from work and that would be cool, I think. Anyway, get better soon. Usted es mi compinche. Your Friend, Joseph Santiago_."

The smile could not be wiped off of Colby's face. He carefully put the letter back in the envelope and opened the box. It was heavy but once the lid came off, the heft was obvious. Settled in a nest of tissue paper was a huge gold rope chain and a gold pendant made of what had to be paste diamonds. The diamonds spelled out '007' with a gun off the '7' just like the franchise logo. Right next to the pendant was a small card. He opened it and read the inscription. _'Boy Scout -- Try it, you might like the gold chain and a pimped out SUV._' On the back was scrawled. _'This is a gift. You can't return it. From a father whose son you returned._'

He looked down at the pendant and laughed. He laughed until he had tears rolling down his face and his stomach hurt. Startled, Gareth and Cat looked at their son. It was the first time they had heard him truly laugh since arriving three days earlier and it did their hearts good.

"Baby?" Cat asked, when Colby was done.

"I'll never be able to explain this Mom but..." He held up the chain and the pendant to show both her and his father.

"Damn, Colby James, what did you do for him?" Gareth asked.

"Returned something, someone, that was taken from him."

* * *

Evening was slowly replacing afternoon and the visitors to his room had dropped off to a trickle when two special visitors arrived.

"Mrs. Granger?"

Cat looked at the door and saw a young woman in a Coast Guard uniform with a taller man also in a Coast Guard uniform standing behind her.

"Yes?"

"I'm Petty Officer Jessica Lewis. This is Chief Petty Officer Tristan DeCuna. We brought your son in and we just wanted to check on him. How is he?" Petty Officer Lewis asked.

"He's doing much better now, thanks to your quick intervention. Come in."

Both walked in and came over to Cat. "That's good to hear. We can't stay long." PO Lewis said.

"Not a problem. While you're here..." Cat turned around and grabbed the spiral notebook from the table, "…would you mind signing?"

PO Lewis looked at CPO DeCuna then back at the book. "Sure." She scribbled her name and address in, and then handed it to DeCuna, who did the same.

"Thank you." Cat took the book back and tucked it under her arm. "And, again, I can't thank you enough for keeping my boy alive."

"Part of the job, ma'am." CPO DeCuna spoke for the first time.

"I knew you'd say that. Colby's father is a cop, trust me, I know its your job - but you never get thanked enough for doing it. Nor for serving your country, so thank you for that as well."

For the first time she could recall, PO Lewis saw her superior officer blush, well and truly blush.

"Mom?" Colby stirred and woke up. He blinked and looked at the two strangers standing in front of him.

"Baby, did we wake you?" Cat asked.

Colby shook his head and started to sit up. "That shi … stuff is still mucking up my sleep."

Cat nodded.

Colby took a good look at the two standing in front of him. Coast Guard. A man and a woman. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"Not that you'd remember." The man told him.

"These are the medics who brought you in." Cat told him. "This is Chief Petty Officer Tristan DeCuna," she pointed at the man, "and Petty Officer Jessica Lewis." She pointed at the woman.

Colby nodded. He had a flash of memory, a male voice talking, but that was all. "Thanks."

Both nodded. "We wish all our cases turned out so well." PO Lewis said.

Colby held out his hand. "Thank you." He shook hands with both CPO DeCuna and PO Lewis.

"We have to go, or our pilot will wonder where we've gone." PO Lewis said.

"Of course! I'm glad you could stop by. If you get a chance to do so again - please feel free." Cat told them. PO Lewis gave her another smile and the two left as quickly as they had come.

Cat opened the book to where the pen still rested from DeCuna's signing of it and glanced at the address there. "Lovely! He gave me his station address as well as his mailing."

"What'cha going to make for them, Mom?" Colby asked.

"I don't know yet, Baby, but it'll be something that they can share around the station." Cat replied. She looked over at her son. Finally, at long last, some color was starting to come into his face. "How are you doing?"

Colby shrugged and lay back on the bed. "I'm bored, Mom."

Cat grinned. Her baby would be fine. "You up to eating dinner?"

He almost smiled. "Depends on what they're serving."

* * *

That evening, after his parents had been shooed out the building by Dr. Mosely, Colby had one last visitor before the end of visiting hours.

Tim Ryan, the FBI's HRT medic poked his head around the door. "Hey, there he is." He said. "You know you are the hardest man to find, especially in this place."

Colby's face lit up when he saw Tim. He waved the other man into the room, and then openly gawked when he saw the hardware poking out the back of Tim's arm, just above the elbow. "Damn, man what happened to you?'

"Oh, you know -- go on a HRT call, get lots of lead thrown in your direction. I'm a little too big to hide behind a radio mast. I've been told I'll be on medical for a minimum of six weeks, at least from my usual duties. I'm already working on getting limited duty after a week or so. How about yourself?"

"Depends on when my mother lets me out of her sight." Colby joked.

"Ah, the legendary Mom Granger ... she really didn't want you to come back here after the MacPherson incident, you think she'll let you go after this?" Tim came over to Colby's bed, giving Colby an up close and personal view of his injury. A sling covered most of it but he could see a cast that started mid-finger and went all the way up past Tim's elbow.

"Probably not." Colby said. "Has everyone heard about my mother?"

Tim chuckled. "You mean to tell me she hasn't told you what she did?"

Colby's eyes popped open. "What? What did she do?"

"Scuttlebutt has it that she cornered nearly everyone you worked with, chewed them up, spit 'em out and left them shell shocked."

"She did what?!" Colby almost yelled.

"Hey, hey ... calm down. It's kinda funny. Well, as long as you're not the one she's chewing on."

"That's not funny. God ... I'll never live that down." Colby moaned.

"I dunno, I kinda liked the way she introduced herself to me. 'Catherine Granger and my son is NOT a traitor'."

"When did you meet her?" Colby asked, confused, yet again.

"Earlier today, just before you were moved out of CCU. Reeves handled introductions."

Colby groaned. "I have GOT to be able to stay awake longer."

Tim nodded. "If it's any consolation, the grapevine has actually been kinda quiet. At least about your Mom. You, on the other hand, man ... do you have any idea what sort of fecal matter you stirred up?"

Colby shrugged. "I've got some kind of idea. What have you heard?"

"Well, I didn't get shot and a busted arm on a simple HRT mission. Unless it's normal for your boss to start international incidents?"

Colby's eyes popped open again even wider, if possible. "Me? You got shot because of me?"

Ryan made a point to look around the private room. "I don't see anyone else here who was responsible for ferreting out a real traitor in the DOJ. Do you?"

Colby swallowed and looked away. "No."

Tim finally sat down in a chair and kicked back. "Granger, relax. You may have been the one to knock the bucket over, but it's Eppes who's out there kicking it back into the face of the ChiComs." Once in a while, the man's Navy background would spring up in the oddest places in conversations.

Colby's eyebrows went up. "Level with me, Tim. What happened out there? I mean I've been told what happened but not…from those who were actually there."

Ryan tilted his head for a moment, deep in thought, then got up, went over to the door and closed it. "Look, most of what I know is just rumor and conjecture, okay?"

Colby nodded.

"No one really knows what happened to you. Probably never will. But whatever it was, for whatever reason, it left Sinclair shaken and, tell me, you ever hear of Iron Man Eppes puking at a scene?" Tim sat back down in the chair.

Colby went white. "Don threw up at a scene?"

"That's what Reeves hinted at. He also took something from the scene that he refused to let go of."

"Damn." Colby relaxed back against the pillows and tried to remember something beyond meeting Lancer but he gave up after a couple of minutes. He shook his head. "It's all a blank. Damn! Why can't I remember anything?"

Tim leaned over and clasped Colby on the shoulder with the hand that wasn't held against his body by the sling. "Hey, if it was as bad as all that, maybe it's better you don't recall it. Of course, that means you probably don't remember the cute Coastie Medic that hauled your tuckus out of there either."

"Blond?"

Tim nodded.

"She and her partner were here earlier today. You're right, she's cute."

Tim grinned. "I know you're feeling better if you're able to think about women again."

Colby grinned in return. "I've got plenty of time." The smile disappeared as he thought over what Tim had said a few minutes before. "You said David was shaken, what'cha mean?"

"I mean shaken. Trust me, that shade of pale is not a good thing to see on a man of David's complexion." Tim raised his hand and made a 'no-no' signal with the main digit. "Anymore than that, you'll have to ask him. I'm not telling on a fellow agent like that."

"I understand. Thanks for telling me what you could anyway. So, between Don and me we really stirred everything up, huh?"

Tim nodded. "You could say that. The after action reports are a sight to behold. And they're still coming in according to my boss."

Colby grinned. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be. That's what we train for right? You do remember what the 'h' and 'r' stand for in HRT right?"

Colby flushed. "I went out there of my own free will, Tim."

Before Tim could respond, a nurse came into the room. "Agent Ryan, visiting hours are over."

Tim stood. "Don't have to tell me twice." He looked at Colby. "I'll see ya. Try not to make the nurse's jobs harder than they have to be, okay? Don't make me call your mother."

Colby laughed and Tim was gone.


	19. Chapter 18 But He's My Partner

**Part Eighteen --****"But He's My Partner…"**

It was well after midnight when David arrived on the 4th floor of UCLA Medical Center. He knew that he was well after visiting hours but ... well ... after everything Bradford had told him, he decided the best way to come to grips would be to 'visit' Colby when he was asleep. That would give David time to sort out his thoughts and yet not forget what he was thinking about.

The nurse, her nametag read 'Ruth', at the nurse's station gave him a look, even after he showed his credentials, badge and identified himself. "Agent Sinclair, visiting hours ended at eight."

David tried his most winning smile and said what he never thought he would again. "I understand but he's my partner."

Ruth sighed. "All right. But you better not wake him up, he needs his rest to fully recover."

"Yes, ma'am. I promise."

"Room 423." She said, pointing the way before going back to her chore of updating the charts.

David nodded and headed down the hallway, taking care to make as little noise as possible. He had changed out of his work clothes in a button-down shirt, jeans and sneakers but he still didn't want to make any more noise than possible. The entire floor was draped in silence and darkness and he was loath to disturb anything. When he pushed open the door to Colby's room, the only light on was located just above the bed.

As he had hoped, Colby was fast asleep, curled on his side, his breathing regular and even. David glanced at the machines still hooked up to him but noticed, with relief, that there were far fewer than had been in CCU. He dropped into a chair, stretched his legs out and let his mind wander.

So many thoughts went through his head. He had been so mad when Colby had 'confessed'. So damn scared when he'd found Colby completely lifeless. So utterly confused after everything else. And then there had been the visit to Dr. Bradford and all that he had given him to think about.

_'So, you think that if you separate 'Colby' from 'Granger' you'll spare your feelings? _

_You know, you're probably the only one he could cut loose with._'

God, what was wrong with him? Why couldn't he come to grips with this? He leaned further back in the chair, his gaze fixed on Colby. After he got his thoughts straight, he'd leave. He didn't want to be there when Cat and Gigi arrived in the morning. He certainly didn't want to be cornered by Cat again, but the longer he sat there, the more comfortable the chair became. It had been a long couple of days and the lack of sleep was catching up on him. His eyelids drooped and he dropped off to sleep.

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_The needle pierced his skin and within seconds it felt as if liquid fire had replaced the blood in his arm. The pain was unbearable but he had sworn to himself not to cry out loud or otherwise give Lancer the satisfaction of knowing he'd caused him pain, so he clenched his teeth together and gripped the arms of the chair tight._

_Fire died, after invading his entire body, only to be replaced with a far worse sensation - the touch was feather light, in fact the son of a bitch was using a damn peacock feather, but the sensation it caused was nothing short of exquisite pleasure boarding on sheer pain. This time he felt the tendons in his jaw pop as he worked to keep from saying anything aloud._

_'Do. They. Know. My Name?' Lancer kept harping on that and Colby refused to tell the man the truth. He'd had no one to tell; he hadn't even known Mason Lancer was Dwayne's handler until they met in the room that had been turned into his torture chamber._

_Not at all satisfied, Lancer had changed tactics. Before the QnB could wear off, the man started to actually hit parts of Colby's body. Oh, it probably wasn't hard enough to leave bruises but it sure as hell felt like the Governor of California wielding a 20-pound sledgehammer had hit him. He couldn't help it, after the second hit, the noises escaped him weren't words ... but whimpers._

_After the tenth hit, things slid sideways and Colby was confused more than ever. He felt someone brushing the sweat from his brow and heard David's voice reassuring him that everything was all right. _

"It's okay, Granger. You're safe." David said. A moan from the bed had woken him; just in time to Colby see deep in the throes of a nightmare.

_"Yeah, right. I'm being beaten to a pulp and you think I'm a traitor, everything's just fucking peachy."_

David gulped. "Not any more, man. I know the truth."

_"Go the fuck away. You're just a damn illusion." _

"No, man. I'm real. You're okay. Lancer's dead."

_"Yeah, right. I'm not that far gone ... he's standing right the hell there. Oh, lovely. See what happens when you keep your damn mouth shut, CeeJay? Mason's over there, playing with those damn syringes and Dwayne sure as hell isn't going grow balls anytime soon."_

"C'mon, man. Shake loose of this, you can do it. I'm right here." David reached out a hand and lightly rested it on Colby's shoulder.

_Colby heard the loudspeaker before he heard the chopper and the boats coming alongside. "Yea ... the posse is here. Oh, lovely. Fucking A. I get to die anyway." But his mind wasn't done playing tricks on him ... he kept hearing Sinclair, of all people, telling him he was all right, that he could shake loose of this. Colby shook his head -violently - trying to deny the fiction even as the truth came toward him with a loaded syringe._

"You're okay, Granger. You're at UCLA Medical Center. Your folks are here too. You're gonna be fine." David stood there helpless as Colby shook his head trying to rid himself of demons only he could see.

_The syringe pierced his skin and the ice flooded his chest. But there was warmth there too. Unlike before there was a cocoon of heat, a shield almost, around his heart that beat back the heart-stopping ice and he relaxed into the sensation and drifted back into the welcoming darkness._

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And just like Colby drifted back to sleep. David looked up at all the monitors around the bed, wondering if he should call for a nurse but decided against it. He dropped back into the chair he had pulled up next to the bed. What he had just witnessed had shaken him, badly. Colby had looked through him like he wasn't even there. What the hell had Lancer done to Colby?

It was damn good thing he had been there. The second time he had been in the right place at the right time. He dropped his head into his hands. What the Hell was his problem? He had to get over this anger. He had to, if for no other reason then to give himself and Colby some peace. He looked up at Colby asleep again. Damn...damn...damn.

How many times had Colby gone through a nightmare like the one he had just witnessed? And he, David, was mad? For what? He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. Some friend he was.

He stared at the ceiling for a long time before sleep stole up and dragged him back down into the darkness.

* * *

David woke up to the lightest touch on his shoulder. Thinking it was a nurse, he sat up a little straighter, to allow them to get by without stepping over his legs, only to realize it wasn't a nurse who'd tapped him on the shoulder. It was Chief Granger.

"You've been here all night, David?" Gareth asked even as Cat slipped by to check on her son.

Gareth's voice brought David fully awake. He blinked and looked up at Gigi. "What time is it?"

"Just after 0630hrs, Cat doesn't like to leave CeeJay alone too long."

David shifted and stretched in the chair, his body reminding him why it was a not good idea to sleep in hospital chairs. He looked beyond Gigi to Cat, leaning over Colby. He stood and grimaced. He hadn't wanted to be there when Cat and Gigi came. He had wanted to leave earlier.

Cat looked at him, her eyes boring into his. "How did he sleep, David? Or are you going to deny you were here all night? Moving like that?"

David turned a shade darker. Damn, he couldn't lie to this woman! "I got here just after midnight."

"Hell, I'm surprised you can even move if you slept in that chair all night." Gareth admonished.

"Midnight to six is not all night." David said, peevish that he had been caught.

"As good as." Cat pulled the blankets up over Colby's shoulder; the guy was sleeping on his side again, and then turned back to David, her voice still quiet. "You didn't answer my question, David. Did CeeJay sleep all right? We've been told to expect a few nightmares..."

David shrugged. He hadn't wanted to tell Cat about what he had seen but she asked. "He slept better than I did but yeah, he had one nightmare."

Gareth sighed. "Damn, I was hoping-- Of course, I should've known better. The ones he had after Mad Hattie woke us up at least once after we got home." He stepped over to Cat's side and looked down at his son. "Damn it, CeeJay, just once, can't you be a normal agent?"

David frowned. "Gigi...this wasn't what Colby wanted either."

"Realized that yourself, huh?" Gareth asked.

David looked away and did not answer. This was not what he wanted. He started to edge toward the door. "I'm going to go. I've got to get a shower and be dressed for work in--" He thought. "--an hour?"

Catherine Granger came up to him, her hand resting on his forearm. "David ... you can't run away from this forever."

"I know ... I just ... well--" David stumbled to a stop; unable to voice what exactly was in his head.

"I know." Cat nodded. "Go on, get comfortable in your own skin again. When you're ready, CeeJay will be around."

"Thanks to you and Don." Gareth added.

David looked away. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it and left without saying a word.

"Why did I just hear David?" All the conversation in the room had woken Colby up.

Cat looked over at Gareth and shook her head minutely. "Were you dreaming, dear?"

"I guess. I had a couple of weird dreams and I kept hearing David's voice." Colby said.

"Well, if David were here, don't you think he'd still be here?" Cat asked her son, gently. She reached over and brushed an errant lock of hair off his forehead.

"I don't know, maybe."

"Colby, son, it took a direct order and the threat of force to pry him away from your hospital bed once before." Gareth told him.

"But he didn't think I was a traitor before." Colby argued.

Cat let out a sigh as she sank into the chair David had just vacated. "CeeJay ... you knew going into this there was bound to be 'issues,' right? So why does it surprise you that your teammates bought your act?" She reached up and laid a hand lightly on his arm. "Not only do you look the most like my father, you act like him too."

Colby flushed. "But he knows the truth now." He knew he sounded petulant but didn't really care.

"Yes, but you 'lied' to him for how long?" Cat shook her head. "I know, you probably didn't lie about your friendship or any shared confidences, but he doesn't know that and, frankly, I'm not sure you've wrapped you head around what this damn assignment of yours may have done to your career."

Colby couldn't look his mother in the eye. "It's not like I had a lot of choice, Mom." He mumbled.

Cat chuckled. "Right. Colby James, I know better. If someone put you between a rock and a hard place, you'd tell them to stuff it. You WANTED this assignment and used whatever excuses you needed to justify it to yourself."

Colby scowled. "You don't know what happened Mom, you couldn't."

Cat sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I don't know exact details, that's true, but can you honestly sit there and tell me you didn't want to prove you could work just as well as a undercover FBI agent as you did an Army CID undercover?" She grinned. "Oh yes, I know about that - but don't ask me how."

"Cat, quit badgering the boy." Gareth said.

"I will, when he stops lying to himself and others about his motivation behind taking this last assignment."

"It wasn't supposed to get out of hand like it did." Colby muttered, still unable to look his mother in the eye.

Gareth let out a bark of laughter. "Son, Jeez, you've served in the Army and seen how plans, when put in the field, fall apart and you expected something like this not to get snafued?"

Colby glared at his father. "Yeah, Dad, I've seen things go wrong but..." He stopped talking and focused his attention on the blanket covering him.

"It wasn't supposed to, right?" Gareth leaned in over his son. "Colby, the plan was flawed from the start - you were, are in many ways still, a rookie and you NEVER should've been dumped on this case like you were. No matter the circumstances."

Colby didn't look up. He didn't want to tell his parents how totally scared out his mind he had been or that he thought he was going to die without ever seeing them again or-- He had to forcibly stop his thoughts from continuing in that line. He was not about to start crying in front of his parents and he might if he kept thinking.

"Gareth ... he understands that. Now." Cat said, seeing the expression on her son's face. "Why don't you go grab some coffee for us and, if it's been okayed by Doc Mosely, some for CeeJay as well?"

"All right. Back in a bit." Gareth eyed his wife for a moment before walking out of the room.

Cat waited until he was gone before she stood up. "CeeJay, I'm going to step out and talk with the staff for a few minutes. I'll be within ear shot though."

Colby watched her go and then he let himself go and cried. He slid down in the bed and sobbed like a baby. Quietly, though, Catherine Granger had ears like an owl. The thought of never seeing his parents or his brothers again had scared him most of all. In a few minutes, he was calm again. "Mom?" he called out to her.

She appeared in the doorway. "Yes, CeeJay?"

"Thank you."

"For what? Leaving you alone?"

He shrugged. "For everything."

"Aw, baby, you should know I'd do anything for you - or your brothers for that matter." She came in and, lowering the rail on one side of the bed, sat down next to him. "You up to a hug from Mom?"

Colby nodded. The hug lasted a good few minutes, just long enough for Gareth to return holding two steaming cups of fragrant coffee. Cat pulled away, touched his jaw line and 'tsked.' "Today, that fuzz has GOT to come off."

Colby grinned. "I don't know, Mom, the nurses seem to like it."

"That's because you haven't hugged them -- it's like a damn Brillo pad!"

"Cursed with the Granger beard, huh?" Gareth said, with a grin. "Why do you think I'm clean shaven? Easier to catch the ladies with a smooth cheek than steel wool."

Colby eyed the coffee. "None for me, huh?"

Gareth shook his head. "Actually, your mom cut back on coffee a few years back - this one's mine and this one--" He handed the cup to his son.

Colby's eyes lit up. He took the coffee from his father and inhaled.

Gareth turned to Cat. "One of the nurses here drinks decaf and is brewing up a pot. Said she'd share with you, Cat."

"That is very kind of her. I'll have to get her address and send her a card."

Colby took a sip and it was heaven. He groaned in pleasure. "Oh, man...that is so good."

"That is the sound of someone deprived of even mediocre coffee far too long." A familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

"Don." Gareth saw him coming into the room out of the corner of his eye. "What brings you by so early?"

"It's early?" Don made a point to check his watch. "Darn, I guess it is. Lost track of time with all the hither and thither I've been going through. How're you feeling today, Colby?"

Colby busy inhaling the coffee, shrugged. "Better." He admitted when he came up for air.

"Yeah, well, you look a hell of a lot better too." Don looked around and, spotting a free seat, collapsed into it. "I, however, feel about wrung out and I still have, at least, one more meeting to attend before I can crawl home and sleep."

"Just how many meetings have you been to Don?" Gareth asked, concerned for the younger man.

"Not sure, been to too damn many of them. This last one, or so I'm told, will be with some pencil pushing diplomat from the State Department."

Colby almost choked on the coffee, trying not to laugh.

"Oh sure, laugh all you want, buddy - after the pencil pusher's done with me, he'll probably come to talk with you." Don grinned, spreading the love all around.

"Gee, thanks." Colby said, draining the cup dry.

"Any time." Don stood up and, with little hope of making things better, tried to straighten out his rumpled suit jacket, slacks and shirt. "There is no way I'm going to be presentable for this last meeting. If he doesn't like it, he can stick it ... Uh, sorry, Mrs. Granger."

"I've heard far worse, Don. Are you going to be okay to drive?" Cat asked.

"Yeah. It's not far from here anyway." He pulled out a piece of a paper and looked at it before stuffing it back in his pocket. "UCLA campus, office of the DIR, whatever that is." He glanced at his watch. "I need to go. Colby, get better and hurry up about it, there's a stack of paperwork building up on your desk." Don left in a flurry of grey suit and blue silk tie.

"I hope he'll be okay. I'd hate for something to happen to him." Cat said, settling into the more comfortable chair in the room.

"He'll be okay, Cat. He knows how far he can push himself." Gareth said, sitting down as well, coffee in one hand, the Idaho Statesman in the other. He had discovered a chain bookstore that carried newspapers from all over the country and the world.

Colby snorted. "Don't be too sure about that, Dad."


	20. Chapter 19 Just One More Meeting

**Part Nineteen - ****Just One More Meeting**

Don looked at the note in his hand, Director Hoffman's handwriting left a lot to be desired but the intent of the scribble was clear enough. He was to meet a member of the US State Department on the UCLA campus in something called the DIR office. This was going to be another one of those useless meetings, he just knew it, and he resented the idea that it was 'mandatory' to boot.

He'd not meet a lot of State Department pukes in his time in Quantico, but he had meet some ... just enough to know most of them were as worthless as tits on a boar hog. _'What in the hell does this jackass think I can tell him in person that he couldn't get from my multitude of fucking after action reports?_' Don groused at himself as he looked at the campus directory for the location of the DIR.

Finding the office he was looking for listed as being in the Public Policy Building, which was to hell and gone on the _other_ side of the campus, Don strode back to his GMC and drove around. It might have been faster to walk, but his legs were starting to protest the running around he'd been doing over the last three days.

Locating a spot in a public parking lot, and, barely, beating out some snotty looking college puke in a beat up Geo Metro, Don climbed back out of his vehicle, slung his jacket back on - making sure the punk in the Geo, who was currently cussing him out, saw his holstered sidearm and badge. He tried not to laugh when the kid suddenly shut up and laid rubber getting as far away from Don as possible. Climbing the steps up to the PPBuilding, he stifled a groan when he found the DIR office was located on the top floor. Four floors up and, yes, there was a sign on the elevators stating they were down for maintenance.

Trudging up the stairs, he was just about halfway between the third and forth floors when whatever classes were held in the building let out and he had to avoid being bowled over by the stampeding herd of students. Finally, he made it to the outside the DIR office and, testing the door, found it unlocked and walked into an outer office.

A young woman, possibly a student herself, looked up from the paperwork on her desk and smiled a very toothy and blinding grin. "Hi! You must be Agent Eppes?"

"If you insist." Don grumbled. He was in no mood for this sort of bullshit.

The girl got up and knocked on the door behind her desk and popped her head inside. "Agent Eppes is here ... Of course." She left the door open and waved for him to come over. "The Secretary is waiting, go on in. Can I get you something to drink, sir?"

"Thanks but no." He hoped he wasn't going to be here long enough to regret that decision. He stepped into the office and, looking around, wondered just what in the hell a DIR was and if it was possible to get the man's job. The office space was tastefully decorated in the same style as his childhood home - prairie Craftsman/Frank Lloyd Wrightesque.

It was about then that he noticed the same woman he'd seen earlier when briefing Director Atwater and his own bosses right after getting back on shore after rescuing Granger. "Secretary Hamilton, I didn't expect you--"

"I know you didn't, Agent Eppes. Please, come in and have a seat. JD Singleton was nice enough to give up his office to me today. I know you were probably expecting yet another bureaucrat so I decided to surprise you. I also wanted to shake the hand of the man that made my year." She held out her hand to Don.

He reached out and shook her hand, surprised to find she had a firm, strong grip for someone who was a bit on the shorter side. "I didn't do anything special-- What the hell is a DIR?" Don blurted out without thinking, and then cursed himself for his bad manners. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way, Secretary Hamilton." She smiled and waved at a chair.

"DIR stands for Diplomat in Residence. The State Department is always looking for the best and the brightest to work for their country. What better place to find those then on a college campus? The DIR is here to answer questions, perhaps speak to groups of students, anything to help answer the questions of those curious about what the State Department does."

Don dropped into the chair in a way that would've had his mother yelling at him, but he was dog assed tired and the lack of sleep was creeping up on him. He kinda tracked what the Secretary had just said, but mostly he just heard buzzing. "Right, sort of a glorified recruiter then?"

"You could say that. We're always looking, especially when some diplomats start to whine that they might get sent overseas to somewhere dangerous. I'll keep this short because I know you've got to be exhausted. I just wanted a couple of minutes of your time."

Don propped himself up, using his elbows to help keep his back straight. "Whatever I can help you with, ma'am, just ask."

"You've made my job very interesting over the last 72 hours. The Chinese were not at all happy to have a sovereign vessel boarded by the U.S. in such a manner." She smiled at Don, taking the sting from her words.

Don crooked a smile at her, "Yeah, well, they made a mistake by trying to take one of my people out of the country and kill him."

Her smile broadened. "I know and I reminded my counterpart in Beijing that the kidnapping and attempted murder of a U.S. federal agent trumped their sovereignty. He sputtered for a while in both English and Chinese. It was quite entertaining."

Don chuckled. "I bet. I hope you told him, nicely of course, where he could stick his ship? I mean, we're not giving that floating piece of excrement back to them, are we?"

"Not yet." She smiled a very evil smile. "And when we do, if we do, let's just say that there will some aftermarket additions to it."

"Good." Don sat back and felt a evil grin of his own cross his face. "Are you sure we couldn't place just a few scuttling charges instead?"

Secretary Hamilton clucked her tongue in mock disapproval. "Now, Agent Eppes, you aren't suggesting that the U.S. Federal Government wantonly destroy foreign property, are you?"

Don sobered up a little. "Ma'am to be perfectly truthful, if my team and I hadn't been able to retrieve Agent Granger alive...you wouldn't have anything to give back to the damn Chinese."

She laughed. "I understand completely." She leaned across the wide desk and lowered her voice so only Don could hear her. "I would've have helped. You don't fuck with my people, and yes, I consider all federal agents to be 'my' people." She leaned back and raised her voice to its normal level. "How is Agent Granger?"

"He's healing. His parents are down from Idaho and I'm hoping we can get him back in the field in a few weeks."

"Excellent. Since I'm in L.A. I intend to meet him myself. You said his parents are here?"

"Yes, ma'am. When they're not at their son's side, they're staying with my father and brother in Pasadena."

"How nice. That was very kind of you to suggest something like that, Agent Eppes." Alex said, surprised by Don's statement.

"It's not the first time." He leaned forward, again mostly to try to stretch his spine and stay alert than for any other reason. "A few months before everything went to hell in a handbasket with Granger's status, he'd been poisoned by a neighbor and my family met his father back then and, well, the 'dads' got along really well."

Secretary Hamilton's eyes widened for a moment, then a thoughtful look crossed her face. "Poisoned by a neighbor..." She repeated softly. "Oh, yes." Her face cleared. "I remember hearing something about that on the news. This certainly hasn't been his year has it?"

"No, ma'am, it hasn't." Don shrugged. "However, I'm hoping that changes for him. Soon. Granger's a good agent, in spite of everything he had to have seen overseas in the Army, he's not jaded. Yet. And he's really quick on picking up subtle clues that any other agent might overlook on a case and running it down."

Alex looked at Don and could just see the weariness ooze from him. "All right, Agent Eppes. That's all I wanted to say. Not so bad, huh? See?

"Was my opinion that obvious, Secretary?" Don asked, more than a little ashamed of himself.

"Well, yes. But having spoken with you twice now, somehow I get the impression that you come by your opinion honestly. Besides, considering some of the people I've had to deal with, I agree with you." She leaned back in the chair, her body language changing from professional to casual. "Did I mention about the diplomats whining about being sent somewhere possibly dangerous?" Secretary Hamilton rolled her eyes.

Don nodded. "Ma'am, not to say anything bad against your Department but ... those whining members? Remind them there are usually FBI Agents and US Marines to keep them from getting shot. Most of the time."

She nodded. "They need reminding of what they signed on to do and if that's too hard, they are free to quit. Whining only demeans the office and annoys their superiors."

"Ma'am, you ever want shooting lessons, contact me. I'm a qualified range instructor and, well, you might be surprised how motivated a person can become when they realize their boss can, and might, shoot them."

She grinned. "Thank you for the offer but I already know how. That doesn't slow them down, unfortunately. The stories I could tell, especially from my desk. However, I might take you up on your offer when I need to requalify."

Don grimaced, the implications of his actions finally sinking into his brain. "Ma'am, just how bad is the fall out from this incident likely to be for the US's relations with China?"

A half-grin crossed her face. "Don-- May I call you Don?"

"Please."

"Don, I'm sure you're well aware of how the politics work in the FBI. It's not that different from the State Dept. However, in the diplomatic corp, things are looked at a little differently. Basically, we talk to the Chinese, they talk to us and the world continues to turn. Meanwhile, their ship is still ours."

"Does this mean that the fall out from this won't cause some friction between the two countries?"

"Well, yes but no more than normal."

Don nodded, slowly starting to realize the petite woman before him was a formidable force and, yes, the Chinese were in for a bit of a surprise. "So they're going to bitch, you're going to remind them they got caught with their hands in the cookie jar - so to speak, then they'll act all affronted and you'll remind them about how Agent Granger was..." He debated on the word to use and finally decided on the truth, "…was tortured by their operative and, if everything goes well, the US and China relations will be quid pro quo?"

She nodded. "That's about it. You ever get tired of the Bureau, we'd be happy to have you at State."

"Ma'am I wouldn't last. I'd probably shoot the first person who acted stupid around me."

"You wouldn't be the first." She grinned.

"Maybe. But I'd rather stay where I am, for now."

She nodded and stood, holding out her hand again. "I won't keep you any longer. I hope you're on your way home to get some sleep. Are you okay to drive? I can have someone drive you if need be."

Don stood up and shook his head. "I'll be fine, Ma'am. I've driven home in worse condition, and I'm not going that far."

"Good. I need to keep people like you in one piece."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver business card holder. She opened it and pulled a card from it, handing it to Don. "It's been a pleasure, Don. And please, call me Alex."

"Same here, Alex. I heartened to know that not everyone in the State Department is, well..." He felt the heat creep up on his face as he realized he was about to insult the people she worked with and, in some cases, for.

"...unable to find their ass with both hands?" She finished his sentence for him.

Don let out a chuckle. "Not exactly the words I was thinking, but they'll do."

She nodded. "One of these days, we will have to get together and trade stories. Now, please, do be careful on your way home."

"I will. I wish you well and good luck with your upcoming talks. Lord knows I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

Alex smiled again. "I love a challenge, that's why I joined the State Department."

Don walked back to his car, happy that Colby's sacrifice wasn't going to be in vain and that Alex Hamilton would do her dead-level best to make sure the Chinese realized they messed with the wrong people. As he climbed into the driver's seat, shrugged out of his jacket and loosened his tie, he tried to ignore the twinge in his chest and shoulder. He was just tired, that was all, a little rest and the aches and pains would go away.


	21. Chapter 20 Not A Spring Chicken Anymore

**Part Twenty - Not A Spring Chicken Anymore**

Before he could rest though, he really needed to get back to the office and finish the last of those after action reports. So, despite his promise to Alex, Don wheeled the Suburban out of the student parking lot and headed toward Wiltshire Blvd. He could always catch a nap in the break room, or crash room in the basement, if it came down to it.

An ache started up in his shoulder, traveling down to his fingertips but he shook it off and tried to ignore it. Then, something akin to a slow-pitched softball landed in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He blinked and tried to refocus on the road but it was next impossible. A phone call from Elaine from a few days ago popped into his head and had him looking for her clinic.

He was lucky in that he hadn't driven past the cross street for City of Angels Clinic. He maneuvered the Suburban over into the right turn lane and turned down the street. The longer he stayed upright, the harder it was to focus. He couldn't be having--

He shook his head. The parking lot for the clinic loomed up on the right and Don all but threw the GMC into the first available parking space. He stumbled out of the driver's side, barely remembering to shut the door, let alone lock it. He, somehow, managed to make it up the sidewalk and through the glass door that led into the outer office.

A scattering of people sat around the small waiting room. Every last one of them looked up when Don staggered into the office. A nurse, who had happened to be talking to the secretary, took one look at Don and hollered "Dr. Walker!"

Elaine appeared in the doorway instantly. The clipboard in her hand was abandoned on the nearest flat surface. "Don?"

"Hey, Doc, uh - do you have time to fit me in to your schedule?" He was having a hard time focusing on the conversation.

She shook her head. "Damn." She came out into the waiting room and took him by the hand. "Get in here."

"Guess that's a 'yes' then..."

Elaine looked the waiting room and the five people waiting to see her. "I'll be with you as soon as I can. This is an emergency folks."

Don was not comforted by the nods the patients, and their family members, gave Elaine as she dragged him into the back.

Elaine directed him into the nearest exam room as she called down the hall. "Kellie! I need your vampire skills in here - stat. Angela, grab the portable ECG, will ya?" She followed Don into the room after barking orders and he realized she had one more to give. "Sit down before you fall down, Don." She reached up into a cupboard and pulled something down that she then tossed at him. "And strip."

Don blinked and looked at the gown in his hands. He nodded slowly and started to take off his tie, dress shirt and tee.

"You had to know this was coming if you willingly came in here. What are you, or did you, feel to bring you to my clinic?" Elaine asked him.

He swallowed. "I was on my way home and it was like a softball hit me in the chest." God, he was tired.

Elaine nodded, started to warm up the stethoscope and moved in to use it - then gracefully moved out of the way of the fast moving young woman who just buzzed into the room. "Full cardiac panel or just quick down and dirty, Doc?"

"Down and Dirty, Kellie and yesterday would be best."

Don looked at the young woman and wondered what she was there for.

"Got'cha." The tech didn't give much warning other than; "Put your arm out here, sir." He'd no sooner raised his arm then Don felt it trapped by her as the tourniquet and needles came out. He didn't have the time to pull his arm away before he felt the needle in his arm.

"Hey--" That was all the energy he had for a protest.

"Just one more vial and then you can have your arm back." Kellie advised him as she switched vials in a smooth movement.

He nodded. Elaine distracted him further by placing the scope against his chest. "Just breath normally, Don, I'm trying to listen to your ticker, not your lungs."

He nodded again, noticing just how coppery-red Elaine's hair was.

Kellie finished her bloodletting, put a cotton ball on the site and then made Don curl arm up to hold the fluff in place. "All done." She scooted out of the room and another person replaced her. This one was a guy and he made no short work of putting the B/P cuff around Don's arm and taking his blood pressure.

Elaine nodded at the man. "Thanks, Jorge. I would've thought you would've sent Elsa in to do that?"

"She was busy and I happened to be walking by. 140/70 with 78 bpm happening."

"78? Don, did you run in here?" Elaine teased her patient as the man, Jorge, headed back out.

"Don't worry about your next appointment, Elaine, I'll catch 'em until you're done." The man said.

"Thanks, Jorge."

Don shook his head. How many people did Elaine have working for her?

"Don't worry - Jorge Simental will not charge you for his little office visit. Okay, Angela, you standing out there?" Elaine called out toward the hall and, sure enough, another clinic employee came in, pushing a cart with what looked like the same heart monitor he'd had used on him before.

"What?" Don asked, bewildered by her statement about not being charged.

"Sorry, Doctor Jorge Simental - I forget you haven't met him. He's the senior partner in the clinic here." Elaine explained as she started placing electrodes on Don's chest.

"Okay. Sorry to interrupt him." He was totally confused now or maybe he was just too tired to care any more.

"Don't be. He'd do the same thing for one of his patients and I'd cover his cases too. In fact, I've done it in the past and will probably do it again in the future." She flipped on the machine and watched the first readings. "All of us here would prefer our patients come here when they feel that bad rather than ignore things until they have to call 9-1-1." She stood next to him and, with little resistance, managed to swing him around and had Don lay back on the exam bed. "Rest a little bit, I just want to monitor your heart for a few before I decide if I need to slap your happy ass into the hospital."

"Okay." Maybe he could get a little sleep, that would be nice.

Elaine reached under the bed and pulled up a light blanket. "Here, Don, it'll get a little chilly in here without this. I'll be back in just a few minutes."

He took the blanket from her and spread it over his legs, then closed his eyes. Yeah, sleep would be real nice. A little nap couldn't hurt.

* * *

It didn't seem like a lot of time had passed before Elaine was back, gently tapping his arm. "Don? Did you fall asleep? Come on. Wakey-wakey."

He blinked and looked up at the green-eyed gaze of Elaine. "Am I having a heart attack?"

"Nope. Your blood work is fine and, though a little faster than I'd expect from you, your heart's acting normal. Can you sit back up for me, Don?"

He nodded. "Then what happened?"

Elaine sat down on a tall stool and wheeled her way back toward him. "Just a few questions first, then I can tell you for certain. Okay?"

"Sure."

"Good. Now, first off, when was the last time you slept for more than 30-60 minutes at a shot?"

He had to think on that one. "What's today?"

Elaine let out a sigh. "Thought so. Does three days sound about right?"

"Not that long. Two days maybe?"

"Granger was admitted to UCLA three days ago, have you slept since then?"

He thought. "Guess not."

"Question two - have you been eating properly or changed your caffeine intake recently?"

"In the last three days?"

"Yes."

He thought again. He'd gotten something to eat the evening Granger had been found and then Megan had dragged him off to get breakfast the next day. "I've eaten."

"Uh-huh." She scribbled something onto the chart in her lap. "Okay, Amendment to Question Two - since you brought it up - have you changed your eating or drinking habits in the last month or so? Been hitting the leaded vs. the unleaded coffee pretty hard lately?"

He flushed. "No. Megan keeps me away from the leaded as much as she can. Everybody in the whole office knows too." He sounded downright depressed about that fact.

"I am happy to hear that, even if it has cramped your style." Elaine made another notation. "Final question - and this one may cause that monitor to go off, so I will apologize now. Been chewed on recently for reasons that escape you?"

He frowned. "What?"

She let out a sigh. "High pressure meetings, chew-outs, bosses been ragging your ass?"

He nodded. Ever since he pulled Granger off that freighter, it had been almost nonstop. Not that he cared; he'd do it again in an instant.

"I'd like a verbal to go along with the nod and the increased rhythm of your heart rate, Don."

"Yeah."

She made a final notation and, closing her pen, put the chart on the counter and shook her head. "Diagnoses: Exhaustion. Stress-related chest pangs, not unlike angina, added to make things interesting."

"So I'm just tired?"

"No, you're exhausted. There is a major difference." She moved in a little closer and placed a hand on his knee. "Don, you're not a spring chicken anymore. There's only so much crap your body can take before it starts burning off what little reserves you had and then, when you reach the end of those, the body starts screaming for attention. In your case, that meant making you think 'heart attack' to get you to slow down."

He nodded. "Okay. So if I get some sleep I won't feel like I'm going to fall over?"

"Sleep, a couple of decent meals that aren't from a damn drive-thru and no more high-pressure meetings for at least 10 hours."

Don snorted. "Sleep I can do, meals I can do, I don't have any control over the meetings."

"I could always slap your ass in the hospital. Think your bosses would leave you alone if I did that and forbade all visitors?"

He smiled. "Promise? Seriously, Elaine, that'd probably be the only way to get them to leave me alone."

Elaine reached for the phone on the wall underneath the cupboard she'd pulled the gown out of.

"No!" He said, surprised she had taken him seriously.

"What? It's just a phone call away and I can have your butt in a bed so fast Alan's future grandkids will be born dizzy."

"That's the last thing my dad needs, another trip to another hospital because of me."

She put the handset back in the cradle. "Okay, so what do you really want me to do, Don?"

He thought for a moment. "A doctor's excuse."

"A damn note? That's it?" She looked over at him, disbelief written all over her face.

"What else is there?" He asked, confused. "I can go home, get some sleep and they'll leave me alone for a while."

Elaine quirked an eyebrow. "It would also help if you stopped trying to be everywhere and do everything, Don. Really."

"It's not like I've had a lot of choice in that, Elaine."

She shook her head. "You're missing my point." She draped her stethoscope around her neck. "But you did the right thing coming here. You drive yourself here?"

"Yeah."

"Because you were on your way to the office?" Don flushed, eliciting another sigh from Elaine. "All right," she said. "I'll call your boss and tell him, I'm sending you home on medical advice and you go to Charlie's."

Don smiled. "Thank you, Elaine. I promise to do just that."

"Are you going to be okay to drive over there?" She asked.

Don nodded. "I should be okay to drive to Charlie's, if not, I'll pull over into a parking area and grab a nap."

Elaine shook her head. "That's not acceptable. I'll get someone to drive you. You just sit and I'll be back in a moment."

"Okay." He finished getting dressed once Elaine left the exam room, then sat back down and did exactly what she'd told him to do. Sit.

A few minutes later, she breezed back in the room. "Someone from Gary's unit will be by shortly to pick you up. I also called and left a message for Megan."

"Thanks, Doc, but I--" He stopped when she glared at him with ice-cold eyes. "Right, say 'thank you,' shut up, and leave it at that."

"You're learning." She said, with a small smile. "I'll have to tell Gary, he'll be amused."

There was a knock on the door, interrupting their conversation.

"Dr. Walker?" It was the nurse who had seen Don after he'd staggered in the door.

Yes?" Elaine looked at the nurse.

"I've got Agent Reeves on the phone."

"All right, tell her I'll be there … no, wait, see if you can't transfer it back here but let her know she might get disconnected." Elaine said.

Don looked at Elaine. "And I thought the phone system in my building was screwy."

She turned and looked at Don. "Great idea to be able to transfer calls to the exam rooms. Doesn't really work though." She shrugged. "We seem to be at the end of the phone grid and that's where all the problems go. We had the entire phone system quit last week out of the blue."

"Ouch." Don said.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear me. I just about turned the air blue." The phone rang and Elaine picked up the receiver. "Agent Reeves, you got my message."

"_Yes, I did. You're sending Don home on medical advice_?"

"That's right. He's about to fall over. I'm frankly surprised he's still upright."

Even Don could hear the sigh from the other end of the phone. "_I've been telling him, and our bosses, that for the last 12 hours. Just before he ordered me home to sleep for 6 hours_."

Elaine shook her head. "Gotta love the federal government, really." She eyed Don. "But that's typical for him, send you home and he keeps going. He'll realize that he's not the Energizer Bunny one of these days."

"_No, I'm pretty sure that distinction belongs to the younger Eppes these days_."

"Would you like to speak to him for a moment? We're just waiting for his ride."

"_If you don't mind_?"

"Of course not." Elaine handed the phone over to Don. "Megan would like to speak to you."

He nodded and took the handset from Elaine. "Yeah, Megan, what's up?"

"_You apparently. Why haven't you gone home? Why did it take Elaine to make you go_?"

She wasn't mad at him, she was concerned. He could hear it in her voice.

"I was on my way home when I...look, it turned out to be nothing but I felt like I had taken a line-drive to the chest and decided to stop by her office. Okay?"

"_Okay, I'm glad you did. Really. I'll keep the lions at bay until you get back. I'll even break out my whip and chair_."

"Thank you, Megan. Don't tell them where I'm going but tell them for the next--" He looked at his watch, "--eight hours I'm incommunicado."

"_Longer I hope_." Megan replied. "_Sleep well_."

Don handed the phone back to Elaine; not bothering to tell either one of them that eight hours was all he was going to permit himself. Once the 'crisis cluster' was done, then he'd sleep himself out, but until then 8 hours would have to suffice.

Elaine hung up the phone, then turned back around and eyed Don, giving him a _look_.

Don grinned at her. "Elaine, you're my doctor, not my wife, or that look might actually work."

"Yes, I know. I'm also the one sending you home on medical advice." She crossed her arms. "Eight hours isn't going to cut it. If I send you home, it's going to be at least 10. Got it? And I'll pray for the woman who marries you."

Don shook his head. "I can't promise that. Eight I can probably wheedle out of the administration monkeys without too much grief. Ten? They're not going to let me escape their grasp that long."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You think so? You only _think_ you've seen me in action."

Don looked at Elaine, mentally picturing her in HRT combat gear and decided that, yes, she would be the type to storm the bastions of upper Management in the FBI and keep his conjones out of the fire.

"Ten hours, Don. And I'm calling Charlie and your father to tell them."

"Yes, ma'am." He handed her a business card, one he'd snagged from Wright's office. "Here, you'll need that then."

She took the card from his hand and fastened it to the clipboard in her hand.

Another knock came on the door. "Dr. Walker? Officer Sefuentes is here to pick up Agent Eppes."

Don, remembering that he'd parked a little close to the office complex, dug into his pocket and handed Elaine the keys to his GMC. "You might want to see about moving that beast of mine. So your patients can park close to the building?"

She took the keys. "I'll get one of the techs to move it. Get some sleep, please!" She put a hand on his arm. "I only want to see you during social occasions."

"Right Doc, I'll call Sinclair on the way to Pasadena and ask him to pick up my vehicle and take it back to our offices after hours." He gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the exam room only to find a uniformed officer standing there in the hall. "You must be Sefuentes."

The olive skinned man about Don's height nodded. "That'd be me. Dr. Walker?" he called out.

"Yes, Jaime?" Elaine called back, looking around the exam room door.

"Lt. Walker said, and this is a direct quote, 'When you're done saving Eppes from himself, don't forget about the Hastings birthday party tonight'."

"Crap! Right. Eppes, out! I've got five more patients to see and a party to get to. Jaime, make sure you take him straight to the address Gary gave you in Pasadena and that he only makes ONE phone call en route."

"Yes, ma'am."

Officer Sefuentes stood to the side and waited for Don to go through first. "C'mon. No sense in ticking her off any more than normal."


	22. Chapter 21 We Need More People Like You

**Part Twenty-One --****We Need More People Like You **

The steady stream of visitors picked up right where it had left off the day before. Everyone from the Director of the L.A. Field Office on down had come by to wish him well. Cat had run out of room for addresses in one book and had started another one.

"Just how are you going to get all those thank you notes done before Christmas, Cat?" Gareth asked her. In the lull between visitors, he had bought a deck of playing cards in the hospital gift shop. He shuffled the deck and then handed it over to Colby. Late morning sun came streaming through the room's windows providing plenty of natural light.

"I'm going to draft the Aunts - what did you think I was going to do?" Cat replied, looking over the top of the book.

"As long as you don't draft me." Gareth replied.

Colby snorted. "Or me." He reshuffled the deck two more times before letting his father cut the deck.

"You two are no help." Cat said, running a finger down the last filled in page of the second notebook.

"Didn't realize we were supposed to be, Mom. Okay, Dad, seven card draw, suicide king is wild. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"You two are not betting, are you?" Cat again looked over the top of the book, eying first her husband, then son over the rims of her reading glasses.

"Mom, what on earth would I have to bet with?" Colby said, giving his mother his most innocent look.

"You would think of something CeeJay."

Colby laughed, his mother was right. "Okay, no 'chips' on the table ... just a little friendly practice."

Gareth snorted. "You know your son, Cat."

"Of course I do. Just like I know once he gets back to Cascade, he's going to rope the honoraries into a game or two. Just like last time."

Colby grinned. "I only do that because my real family doesn't like to play against me anymore."

"I wonder why." Gareth muttered. "Ever since you bluffed Cody out of a Royal flush with a lousy pair of twos..."

A knock on the doorframe made everyone look toward the door.

A tall woman with curly dark haired dressed in a classically stylish suit stood there. "May I come in?" she asked.

Gareth held the cards in one hand as he stood up, his other hand drifting toward his concealed weapon. "Sure. Who are you?"

Cat moved to stand by Colby's side, wary after seeing a blank expression on his face. He clearly had no idea who this woman was either.

The woman stepped into the room with her hands out at her sides. She put her purse and bag down on the unused bed. "I'm Alexandra Hamilton, Assistant Secretary of State, Bureau of East Asian and Pacific Affairs."

"Oh!" Gareth dropped the hand going for his gun and held it out to the woman. "Gareth Granger, that's my wife Cat, and, I suspect, you need to talk to Colby alone?"

She shook her head and shook his hand. "That's not necessary. I just wanted to come by and personally thank your son for what he did."

She held out her hand to Cat. "You must be Agent Granger's mother. A pleasure."

"What I did?" Colby had been continually downplaying his part in everything.

Alexandra came over to Colby's bed and held out her hand. "Agent Granger, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

He dropped the cards in his hand, face down, he didn't want to lose those trips, and shook the woman's hand. "Alexandra Hamilton? The same Hamilton who told North Korea to 'behave or else' and rattled a pretty big saber at them?"

Secretary Hamilton grinned. " Yes, that Hamilton. I'll let you in on a secret -- I was in one of my better moods when I told them that."

Colby nodded. " If you can do that to a head of State … I promise not to tork you off."

"Very intelligent." She looked at Cat. "You raised him properly, I see."

"As much as I could."

"Agent Granger, your boss, your team and - ultimately yourself, have made my life very interesting for the past several days but, frankly, I'm rather glad you did. I finally have a chance to remind my counterpart in China of his--" she paused for a second before continuing, "_duty_ to the world community."

"I would say, good for you, but I'm not sure exactly what any of that would bring you here?"

She looked at Colby's parents, then back at Colby. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I know I said you didn't have to leave but would you mind? It'll only be a couple of minutes."

"Sure. Gareth, let's go grab another cup of that excellent coffee from down stairs for CeeJay."

Cat waved at Colby as she pulled her husband out of the room, Gareth, however, was smart enough to yank the door shut behind him - leaving the State Department woman alone with their son.

"May I sit down?" she asked.

"Please?" He gestured to the chair his mother had vacated and turned on the bed to sit facing her.

She sat down and studied Colby for a long moment before saying "I'm here to thank you for putting to a stop what the rest of the U.S. Counter Intelligence couldn't."

"It wasn't just me ... Kirkland did a lot more than I did."

She nodded. "That's true. For years, we've known that the Chinese were somehow getting intel out of the DOJ but we could never quite figure out where. They denied it of course and around and around and around the wheel went. You and Agent Kirkland broke that wheel. My counterpart in Beijing again denied any knowledge of such things until I told I him that I had proof. Then, and this has never happened to me, he was utterly speechless and then he sputtered in English and Chinese. For several minutes. It was delightful. So, I just wanted to say 'thank you' for letting me render the Minister of the Provinces speechless."

Colby shook his head. "Ma'am, I was just lucky. In the right place at the right time and too damn, excuse me, full of stubborn pride to turn down a request from a superior officer. I did nothing worth being thanked."

Secretary Hamilton smiled. "Somehow I knew you would say that. And, please, call me Alex. I'm far too young to be called 'ma'am'."

"Fine, but if we're going to be on first name basis, could you please return the favor? I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to stay an 'agent'."

Alex nodded. "I know your family history, by the way. After all this happened, I did a little research. I know who your grandfather was and your uncle ... you are carrying on a great tradition." She leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. "Colby, you have to stay in. We need _more_ people like you, not fewer."

"Alex, this wasn't easy, I hated lying to my friends. Granddad Bob used to tell tall tales that fascinated me as a kid but the reality wasn't anything like what he or Uncle Stephen did. My family still doesn't know what the hell happened to him, I don't want that legacy for my kin."

Alex nodded. "Whether you believe me or not, I understand completely. A large portion of my family still doesn't understand why I do what I do."

"All I wanted to do when I joined the Bureau was just be an agent. This undercover bullsh-- It's not for me. Not after this."

"I tell you what, Colby and I'll repeat this to your mother. You stay in the Bureau, just as an agent, no undercover work, and I'll do my damndest to find out what happened to your Uncle Stephen." She grinned. "I like a challenge. Beside, it'll be fun to remind the Director of the CIA just what a debt we owe to people like your grandfather. And isn't finding out what happened to Bob Larsen's son reasonable? Especially since the 'old man's' grandson almost died for his country? Oh, yes, this will be fun."

Colby looked up and studied her face, trying to decide if he could trust this woman he'd just met, then realized he could and that it was worth it, especially if his mom could finally find out what had happened to her brother. "I'm not going to make any promises, Alex, but I'll give serious consideration to staying in the FBI."

"That's all I can ask. Truly." She stood. "Shall I go and tell your parents they can come back now? I meant what I said."

"Yeah … just a second." He grabbed up a pen and a pad from the table and scribbled a name, department and address on the top sheet and handed it to her. "If you do find out what happened to Uncle Stephen, get the file to my brother Cody. He works the Cyber/Cypher Division at the Hoover Building. He'll make sure mom gets the information in a secure format."

Alex looked down at the paper in her hand. "Absolutely." She walked to the door, opened it and waved down the hallway to Cat and Gareth, signaling for them to come back. She pocketed the paper.

His folks came back into the room, his father carrying a large insulated mug of very fragrant java that Colby found himself reaching for the mug without thinking.

Alex chuckled. "Can't live without the coffee, hmm?"

"I got addicted as a kid - polishing off Dad's dregs when he'd leave for work and Mom would turn her back for a moment."

That got a laugh from Alex. "I didn't get into the coffee habit until college and grad school. You ever drink Jolt Cola, Colby?"

He shuddered, "Yeah, tried it - once, that stuff is nasty!"

"You got that right." Alex shuddered herself. "But it got me through more than one thesis paper."

"Finally! A caffeinated drink my youngest won't touch!" Cat said.

"Trust me Mrs. Granger, Jolt Cola is..." Alex made a face. "I've heard that there's a website that sells Jolt Cola X2. Supposedly twice as bad."

Cat shook her head. "I had to cut back recently, but pretty much every male in the family is addicted to coffee - Cliff, my second oldest, won't touch coffee until he can, literally, stand a spoon up in it."

Alex nodded. "Mrs. Granger, as I was telling your son, I am well aware of your family's history. Your father and brother..." She looked at Colby. "Your own children."

Cat nodded. "My father and my brother made their own choices, as did this son of mine," She gave Colby the eye. "But I'm pretty sure he knew what my feelings on the matter would've been if he'd thought to ask."

"Mom, trust me, I'm going to avoid being placed undercover in the future if at all possible. I did not like it."

"Your family has given more to this country than anyone can put into words. As a...completely _inadequate_ thank you, I'm going to do my damndest to find out what happened to your brother Stephen. I can't promise I'll ever find anything but I can certainly make the CIA sit up and take notice."

Gareth pulled Cat into a one-armed embrace as her eyes filled and she tried not to lose it in front of a stranger. "Just the idea that someone is willing--"

"Ms Hamilton, thank you." Gareth spoke up. "We've been trying since Stephen died back in '73 to find out what happened, but we keep getting stonewalled."

Alex smiled. She took Cat's hand in hers and squeezed it before letting go. "You're more than welcome. I told Colby that I love a challenge and dragging info out of the CIA will certainly be that."

Cat nodded. "I'm sure it's nothing like it used to be, but unless he'd been cleared to, you never could drag anything out of my father. Good luck on your mission, Secretary Hamilton."

"Standing here right now, I can think of at least three agencies that are going to howl but..." Alex shrugged. "Appointees come and go but one thing stays the same and that's the bureaucrats like me." She touched Cat on the arm. "This country could never thank your family for what they done for us. I can only hope that I can find something for you."

"I hope so too. Okay, that was incredibly selfish of me, but I think I have a right to know what happened to my twin, don't you?"

Alex's eyebrows went up. "He was your twin? That I did not know but yes, you do have the right, absolutely." She pulled a business card case from her pocket and opened it. She pulled out three cards, flipped them over and scribbled something on the back of them. She then handed a card to each Granger. "My personal cell number is on the back. I'll be in touch. It was a pleasure to meet all of you. I'm off to make the Minister of the Provinces' life harder than it already was." She was gone out the door before anyone could say anything.

Colby sat, stunned for a few moments, staring down at the card in his hand, then he started to laugh.

"What's so funny, CeeJay?" Gareth asked, not seeing anything unusual on the card in his son's hand.

"Dad ... the Chinese are about to get their heads handed to them, by a woman."

Now Cat started to chuckle. "He's got a point, Gar ... talk about loss of face."

Gareth snorted. "They could sell tickets."

"If I wasn't so sure I'd get PNG'd - I love to go along with her." Colby said.

"NO! Absolutely not!" Cat turned on Colby, fire flashing in her eyes. "Getting anywhere _**near**_ that country is expressly forbidden to you for the next twenty years, Colby James."

Colby swallowed. He hadn't seen his mother that mad since he had gotten busted making out with Nadine Somners when he was in high school. "Yes, ma'am."

"Cat...I think he was just wishing. I seriously doubt he really wants to go to China."

"He'd better not. Don't you two have a card game you were playing?" She asked.

"Yeah, we do..." Colby picked up his cards from the table, even as Gareth pulled his hand from a back pocket. "Sheesh, I doubt I'll even want to order Chinese food for a while, Mom. Just chill, will ya?" He smiled at her, trying to get her to climb back down off his back - so to speak.

Cat glared at her youngest. "Not funny, CeeJay." She sat down, carefully tucking Ms. Hamilton's card away in her backpack.

"Right, too early yet to start joking about things. So noted." He looked at his hand again, then up at his father. "Opening mental bid of five dollars, Pop."

"And no gambling!" Cat said.

"Honey - it's imaginary mental money. Colby, make it five cents or she'll keep interrupting us." Gareth advised and Colby just nodded. Sometimes having your mother hanging around while trying to play a serious poker game with your father could be a drag.


	23. Chapter 22 Home At Last!

**Part Twenty-Two -- Home At Last!**

Colby watched out the small window as the mountains of Idaho became visible through the cloud deck as the FBI jet lost altitude as planned. This trip home had started over two and a half hours ago, back in Los Angeles, with a quiet send off at Van Nuys attended only by a small group of 'family and friends' and, thankfully, no reporters. The view outside the porthole he was staring out of went completely white as the pilot dropped through a cloud and Colby couldn't help but recall who hadn't been at the airfield.

Megan and Don, even Charlie and Alan, had made 'excuses' for that one absent friend, but in his heart, Colby knew – David wasn't ready to really talk with him. Not yet.

//_Maybe never. I really blew it with David._//

Movement in the aisle of the plane caught his attention and he pulled his gaze off the green mountains below to see his father standing over him. "Pilot just told me we should be landing at Cascade in a few minutes. You ready to be home for a while and just relax?"

Colby smiled, hoping his father didn't realize it was a façade. "Yeah, I think I am. A little peace and quiet, maybe a nice hike up the mountain—" he looked over at his mother, who had overheard him and was now glaring at him. "—**after** I'm fully recovered, of course. It'll give me a chance to decide what I really want to do with myself now."

Gareth sat down on the seat next to Colby. "Still having figured that out yet, huh?"

"No." He admitted. Then looked his father in the eye. "There are times when it's crystal clear and I know I'll go back to the Bureau, even if it means leaving the LA team. Then the brain starts in on the 'what if' game and I really wonder if I wouldn't be smarter to resign, stay at home and take Sheriff Leland up on his offer." Colby reached out with his right hand to grasp his left, which had started to twitch. It was a minor muscle spasm that was a legacy of the drugs Mason Lancer had used on him. It wasn't enough to disqualify him on a medical disability for the FBI, but it was annoying and he was never sure when the darn things would start.

His father must have noticed the spasm, for Gareth reached out and clasped Colby's hands in his right and held on for a few seconds. "Colby, don't make any decisions tonight, hell, this week. Just concentrate on being you and getting over the last of the junk that was pumped into your system. When the time is right, the choice will make you – not the other way around." A couple of pumps from the strong hand on his own and then Gareth stood back up and chastised his youngest. "Better buckle up, you know how bumpy the airstrip can be, CeeJay."

He nodded and, following his father's advice, buckled up before returning to his previous activity – staring out the window. Recognizing the fairly large body of water below as Cascade Lake, Colby felt a weariness pass over his mind. The last time he'd come home, he'd arrived in his father's patrol unit and had been able to slowly adjust to the higher elevation and breath the mountain air for hours prior to arriving home.

//_Maybe I should've tried to sleep on the flight after all._//

He was still experiencing bouts of unexpected lethargy and while he managed to blow off most of his concerns when his mother asked about them; he wasn't completely able to convince himself.

The pilot banked the plane into a left turn and the higher peaks of the Salmon River mountains, some still snow capped, came into view for a half a minute before the jet started to dip down even faster. Colby realized he could see the airfield and part of his hometown up ahead before the pilot made a seemingly insignificant course correction and Cascade disappeared.

A few fairly soft bumps and the grinding squeal of the plane's breaking system reverberated through the aircraft, and Colby's still slightly sensitive nerve endings, as the craft touched down and rolled out before turning to taxi back to the Quonset hut styled terminal building that was Cascade Air Field's headquarters. Gareth, then Colby, unbuckled before the plane came to stop and started to gather up the few things they'd scattered around the cabin in flight and handed them to Cat who shoved them in a rather…tacky tourist bag Megan had presented her at Van Nuys. It was like the **_I Love New York_** bags only this ones saying was _**Ámo Los Angeles**_ and Megan had stuffed it full of magazines and crossword puzzle books to read or work on, on the flight.

The co-pilot came back and undid the hatch on the door, automatically lowering the stairs before standing back and letting the Grangers disembark. Gareth went first, the steps were rather steep and he didn't want Cat to take a spill, and Colby was ready to come down behind her when the pilot joined the co-pilot and both men asked him to wait a second.

"Agent Granger, it's been an honor to serve you and your family." The pilot, a fellow FBI agent named Cargill, said. "Director Hoffman told us both to tell you that, whenever you're ready, call him and we'll come get you."

The co-pilot, a much younger agent named Lenz, nodded and then volunteered, "Even if we have to take out the competition, we'll come back to get you when you're ready to return to Los Angeles."

Colby snorted a little, it was funny how eager Lenz was, and then shook both men's hands. "I'll remember that, but I haven't decided if I going to return to LA or the Bureau yet."

Cargill didn't let go of Colby's hand. "Pardon me, son, but that would be a major mistake on your part. The agency needs people like you, people who aren't afraid to do the hard things even when they know it might blow up in their face. Cutting and running – that's not for someone like yourself. Trust me." His peace said, Cargill released Colby's hand.

He nodded at the senior pilot before turning around to see all _three_ of his brothers had joined his Mom and Dad at the bottom of the steps. Lars he had expected, after all, Billings, Montana wasn't all that far away; Cody he'd been pretty sure would try to come out from Washington DC, and maybe not make it due to workload; Cliff, however, was a surprise. The last time he'd heard from him, Chief Petty Officer Cliffton Forrest Granger had been onboard the USS Enterprise and on a 'float' in the Persian Gulf.

Hoping down the steps, Colby embraced both Cliff and Cody as he stepped off the last riser. "Cody! Cliff! What are you two doing here?"

"Making sure you don't get a big head, Mister Hero of the Hour." Cody teased as he pushed out of the embrace and then made a show of 'patting down' his little brother. "Damn, they let you get onboard the plane with your sidearm, Bro?"

Colby moved the light jacket he'd worn all flight back over his Springfield 1911-TRP before releasing Cliff from the one-armed embrace Cody had broken away from. "Yeah, FBI's funny that way. They want armed agents on their agency jets." He made a point to stare at his brother's form, "And where is your sidearm and badge, Special Agent Code?"

"Back at the house. Unlike you, I had the joy of packing my pistol away before boarding a domestic flight to Boise."

"Speaking of flights ... Cliff, how in the hell are you here? Last I heard you were over in the PG?" Colby turned to face his older, but not eldest, brother who, frankly, looked as worn out as Colby felt.

Cliff shook his head. "I was, until about a week ago when I was called to the Captain's Quarters, told to pack my gear and be on the flight deck in fifteen. You, little bro, have some kick ass friends in some seriously high places." He then reached out and grabbed Colby by the back of the neck and shook him, lightly. "Squirt, you ever scare me like that again, you better hope I can't track you down or I'll finish you off myself."

Colby took the scuffing shake for what it was, Cliff's way of showing him just how badly he'd been shaken by news of his little brother's near-death experience. "You may have to stand in line, Cliff." He made it a point to look over to where Lars and their parents were standing by an older model Chevy Suburban. "Mom's already read me one riot act and has first dibs on my ass if I ever get stupid enough to agree to another undercover assignment."

Cliff let go of Colby's neck and nodded. "Yeah, I can see why mom might be that way. Any idea when, or if, she'll ever let you out of her sight again? This is what? The second time in six or eight months you've been sent back home on medical?"

"Don't remind me, Cliff." He turned to see Cody had moved around to stand at the bottom of the steps where the co-pilot was handing down the few bags of luggage he and his folks had brought back from Los Angeles. "Let me help you with that, Cody." Colby offered, only to have Cliff's hand drop like a steel vise on his shoulder and hold him in place, even as Lars roared at him from where he was as he walked over to assist Cody.

"Not only no, Hell no, Squirt!" Lars barked, then gestured at Cliff. "Get that skinny butt of his in the truck, Cliff. Cody and I will take care of the luggage. Do not let him try to squirm out of this."

The pressure on his shoulder lightened up a little, but also started to pull him in the direction of his mother's faded red Chevy. "Cliff…hey, when Mom finally decides I'm fit to be left alone without supervision for a whole day, you want to go up the mountain trail?" Colby was trying to distract his brother in hopes of getting out from under the man's grasp, but it wasn't working.

"CeeJay, the only way you're going up that particular trail is if Mom can send the whole group with you, and you know Lars and Code are not fond of hiking." Cliff pulled him to a stop behind the Suburban and turned him to face him. "Why are you even thinking of going up to your place of solitude, bro? Especially before you've even had a chance to set foot back in the old homestead?"

Colby shrugged, finally displacing Cliff's grip on his shoulder. "I need to do some serious contemplation, Cliff, and the one place I know I could do that in peace is…well, you know where even if no one else in the family does."

"Squirt, there is no way Mom's going to permit you to go traipsing off to climb mountains. Forget it, it's not going to happen."

"Then come with me. She might let me go if you offered to ride herd on me."

Cliff stared at Colby, his face going through a few expressions before he finally nodded. "Fine, you convince Mom you're well enough to hike up Salmon Ridge, I'll go with you."

"Thanks, Cliff." Colby patted his brother on the upper arm before going around to the passenger side of the Chevy and helped his mother get settled in the front passenger seat even as Cody and Lars loaded four medium sized suitcases into the cargo area.

Colby watched as Lars refused to give the keys to the Chevy over to their father and, actually, convinced the Chief of Police of Cascade, Idaho, that, for once, he could ride in the back with 'the rest of the kids' while he, Lars, drove the family back home. After much jostling and rib pokes, not to mention downright sneaky tickles on sensitive waists and underarms, the Granger clan was packed up and Lars was driving around the airfield's terminal building to the front parking area.

That is when Colby wished he hadn't been unceremoniously stuffed into the middle of the back seat between Cody and Cliff, for the position allowed him a completely unobstructed view of the spectacle. His first reaction, the desire to crawl under the seat and hide, was completely thwarted by the fact he was wedged in between two brothers with identical builds to his own. In other words, he was trapped. There were, at least, a few hundred Cascadians in the parking area outside the terminal, all waving American flags and basically acting as if some Very Important Politician had come to town. That was until he saw the banner and he felt his jaw drop.

It was being held up by no less than six people, all of whom he recognized as members of the Valley County Sheriff's Office or Cascade Police Department, including Sheriff Leland and Sergeant Bill Malpass. It was simple, red and blue paint on a white background, but it was the sentiment that had Colby wanting to hide.

_**"Welcome Home – Colby James Granger – Our Hometown Hero!"**_

Colby felt the blood rush to his face in what had to be a furious blush, even as his parents, and brothers started to giggle at his jaw-dropping reaction.

Lars stopped the Chevy long enough to turn around and look at him. "Squirt, you may as well let the town fawn over you tonight and celebrate your return. Then, maybe, they'll get it out of their system and treat you like you obviously want to be, like you're still you."

Colby shook his head. "It's just so …it's darn … it's _unnecessary_! I was just—" He couldn't finish, he knew he was fighting a losing battle, but it still made him uncomfortable.

Cody reached over and tapped him on the side of the head. "Hey, you might not need this, Colb, but the town does. The last few weeks have been pure hell on everyone here, they've all been hounded and hurt by the accusations the media flung around." He pointed to a group of people in the crowd Colby didn't recognize. "Even families new to the area who don't know you or our family have been upset and bewildered by recent events. Cascade needs to celebrate your heroism, if only so they can kick the media in the teeth with a resounding 'we told you so'."

Colby sat in stunned silence. He had known, going in, the mission would probably hurt a lot of people - especially his family once Kirkland came up with the plan that would get him 'arrested' as a traitor. But that the whole town had felt that pain … Cody was right, the celebration might not be his ideal way to 'recover' from the ordeal. But it was the prefect way for Cascade to do so and to do so in style. Finally, he got up the courage to ask one question. "Who's idea was this?"

Lars started moving forward again as Cliff answered. "Who's wasn't it? Mom, Dad … CeeJay … be warned. The house and the barns, heck the whole friggin' homestead have been invaded by Aunts, Uncles, Friends and Family."

Cat Granger looked startled and practically screeched at her older boys. "You all had been not have let my neighbors find a dirty house!"

"Like Doris would let that happen." Cody groused.

Lars shook his head as he turned off airport property and onto the main road into Cascade. "No, Ma, we cleaned and it still wasn't enough for Dee. She can be…no, I'm not going to say it."

"I will." Cody grinned as he jumped back into the conversation. "Dee Speeck is like… the worse Taskmistress this side of Hades."

"The word you're looking for, Cody, is 'harridan' and I wouldn't have my executive secretary and Chief Lion Tamer any other way." Gareth spoke up in defense of woman who really ran Cascade PD.

Cliff nodded. "Yeah, but the place is ready, the food and beverages are there and all that's wanting is for the Hero here to show up and take his homage like a man."

This time Colby couldn't repress the groan that escaped him. He was tired and still not anywhere near his usual energy levels. All he wanted to do was get home, crawl up the stairs and go to sleep in his old bed.

Gareth leaned forward, reaching past Cody to grab Colby by the hand. "Give the Aunties and Unks an hour, maybe two, then you can amscray upstairs and sleep the rest of the night if you want to. We'll explain afterwards should anyone ask."

Colby nodded, not wanting to disappoint any of the family friends who, by all practical measures, were honorary family members to the entire Granger Clan.

"Besides, I could always 'escape' with you, CeeJay." Cliff offered.

"Yeah, that'll work." Cody snarked from Colby's other side. "Everyone knows Cliff's turned into a real slug-a-bed since getting home nearly three days ago now."

Cliff's long arm snaked behind Colby to smack Cody upside the head. "Hey, you survive the same flights I had to take to get here and see how you feel afterwards, Code." His casual remark prompted Gareth and Cat to ask about that trip home and Colby learned that Assistant Secretary of State Alexandra Hamilton had 'arranged' things for his brother to beat feet home to Idaho toot sweet.

The longest, and in Cliff's narrative at least, the most grueling part of his trip home had been being stuffed in the weapons officer's seat of a F-18 from the Big E to Guam, after a refueling in mid-flight somewhere over – Cliff couldn't remember. The only thing he clearly recalled was lots and lots of ocean below and the pilot's threat to have a Chief Petty Officer clean the inside of his bird if Cliff so much as thought about puking in it. "Pilot actually said I'd have to 'sit in it and deal with it all the way to Pearl' and then, Chief or not, he'd make sure I personally cleaned the mess up before he'd let me near my next bird."

Colby laughed, as did Gareth and even Cat. "Yeah, I can see why the pilot might be a bit touchy about that, Cliff. I've cleaned up my share of puke from helicopter decks when my fellow ground-pounders wouldn't listen and ate large meals before a fly-out mission."

Cliff nodded. "Yeah, but it was the final leg of the flights that was the best. From Pearl to home, in a nice executive jet. And that Hamilton lady from the State Department—" He stopped and just whistled.

Colby chuckled. He remembered Alex Hamilton and knew the woman was a force to be reckoned with, but he also understood Cliff's apparent attraction and reaction. "So, Cliff … did you get her number?"

"Bro, to be honest, I was lucky I could even remember my own name at that point. However, she did say she'd be in touch with us, and I am pretty sure she meant you, later this week or next."

Colby groaned. "Oh that's just great. Probably means yet another debrief for me when she gets back from…" Colby clammed up. He was pretty sure Cliff and Cody had the clearance to hear it, and Mom and Dad already knew but Lars…

"It's called **China**, Squirt. It doesn't take a genius or a high-level security clearance to figure that out." Lars filled the silence after Colby's screeching halt mid-sentence.

Colby shook his head. "Yeah, well, forgive me if I'm still a little paranoid, Lars."

"No problem."

Cliff got his attention again. "Colby, that's not the impression I got from Secretary Hamilton, she seemed genuinely concerned about you."

"Maybe…" He tried to steer the conversation away from himself and his actions, or lack thereof, when he realized Lars was coming up on the turn off to the county road that lead to the Granger land. No sooner had his oldest brother turned off the highway to the paved county road, Colby felt his jaw drop once more.

There were cars and trucks of all makes and sizes lining the narrow country lane and Colby started to get a rough idea just how many people might be waiting at the house for his arrival. There was just enough room on the road for Lars to squeeze the old Chevy through and, if push came to shove, maybe the local fire trucks could get through without damaging too many vehicles. Lars pulled into the gravel driveway, into a slot someone had left – or been ordered to leave – for Cat's old Suburban, parked and hopped out of the driver's seat.

What struck Colby the most was the lack of noise. There had to be well over hundred people gathered and, yet, there was little or no noise to greet the arrival of the clan. Cliff jumped out, the same time their father did, and helped their mother climb down out of the passenger seat. Cody, being helpful, poked Colby in the ribs to get him to move out of the seat and onto the driveway. No sooner had he stepped out onto the white rocks paving the drive, the gathered crowd started to roar and, he was certain, the noise would be heard in Boise before they were through. It was humiliating, embarrassing and, at the same time, uplifting.

He hadn't moved more than three steps away from the Chevy when Doris Speeck and her grandson, Officer Jamie Speeck – one of Colby's best friends still living in Cascade – pulled him into a two-fold hug. Doris gave him a resounding kiss – complete with comedic noises of a overly dramatic smack – on the cheek and Jamie, after letting go and slapping him on the back, started to push a clear path through the crowd toward the barn. Inside the massive wooden and steel structure, the roof had been redone in steel plating since he'd last been home, Jamie and Doris dragged him to a massive Laz-E-Boy recliner someone had set up on a 'stage' underneath the center of the barn.

"You. Sit! Everyone will come to you, no circulating." Doris barked, the smile on her lips belying the harshness of her words. "You want something to drink?" Colby nodded, too stunned at the sheer size of the crowd and Doris' taking control to speak. Jamie, however, knew him well enough to thrust an ice-cold can of RC Cola into his hands even as Doris turned to face the gathering crowd once more. The shrill whistle that issued forth from between her teeth was enough to cause several people to cringe and a few dogs over on her property to the north of the Granger's property to start howling.

"EVERYONE! ZIP IT!" The assembled horde fell silent immediately. "Thank you. Now, I know we're all very happy to have CeeJay back among us and that we all want to speak with him or congratulate him or, otherwise reward his bravery—" Doris stared down a couple of the more bolder teenaged girls in the crowd until they giggled and melted away from her glare. "However, keep in mind that he's only recently been released from the hospital and has been through a wringer like none of you can possibly conceive of and will probably tire easily. Keep it short, keep it simple and, most of all – ladies – keep it PG!"

The throng let out a roar of laughter and Gareth and Cat came over to give Doris a hug. "Doris, remind me to look into getting you a raise when I get back to work." Chief Granger remarked as he kissed the woman, old enough to be his mother, on the lips in front of his wife.

Colby tried not to laugh when both his mother and Doris batted his father on the head. "Stop that, Gigi! Sheesh! You know nothing's too good for one of my honorary grandsons."

The party started in earnest after Doris' announcement and Colby realized just how many people he called family or friends here in Cascade. Even the younger siblings of buddies and ex-girlfriends came through the 'receiving line' and thanked him for doing his job. Some of the more single ladies were extremely thankful and between Lars, Cliff, Jamie and Cody, they made sure his face wasn't caked in lipstick. After a while, true to his word, Cliff came over and - with a few words of apology, pulled CeeJay out of the chair and to the house.

By unspoken agreement, the upstairs had been kept as a private sanctuary and once Cliff got Colby up the stairwell, all Colby could think about was sleep. Cliff gave him a light push toward his old room and, once inside the noise level from the party magically dropped. Stumbling toward the bed, Colby didn't even strip out of his clothes before flopping down, only to bang his head on something under the coverlet.

Sitting up, he pulled back the cover and, spotting the pale green box, smiled and opened it. He might be stuffed from good food and sticky sweet stuff from the party, but there was always room for pistachios and Aritza Farm's Pistachio Shortbread Cookies.

**END**


	24. Missing Scene 2 Bonus for 2 Years

Hello,

Though the story Two Years and Too Many Days has finished, Suisan and  
I have a few missing scenes that we did not include in the original  
story. Now that the story is finished, we will post them.

We have already posted a scene 'Agent Granger arrives in the ER'  
which is in Colby's POV and is from Part Four. This scene is from  
the ER doctor's POV both ER doctors.

Enjoy.

All relevant disclaimer info is still in the Author's Notes.

* * *

Dr. Greider...

The job of a trauma doctor in a major hospital ER was not for everyone but it fit Doug Greider like no other job ever had. His job was always challenging, never boring and, sometimes, in a good way, exciting. He never knew what was coming. A case from that afternoon was the perfect example. A Coast Guard helio was en route to UCLA with a critically injured federal agent on board. He was waiting for the medics, his mind coming up and discarding a dozen different treatment scenarios, based on the limited amount of info he had, when the doors opened and his patient was wheeled in, still in the Stokes Rescue Basket. Two medics, a man and a woman each held an IV bag above the man.

"Trauma Bay Three is open." A nurse said.

Greider nodded, listening to the female medic as he walked next to the gurney, making a mental note of the gel pads affixed to the man's chest.

"35 year old white male, chemically induced heart attack, beat recovered at the scene 20 minutes ago. Cardiac arrest en route but responded to defibrillation." She said. "It's thought that he may have been tortured."

Greider looked up at her, then back down at the man and nodded.. They reached Bay Three and the man was swiftly transferred from the rescue basket to a gurney. Greider looked up at the saline IV's, then over at the medics.

"Name?" He asked.

"Agent Granger." The female medic said.

"Drug's used?"

"Unknown." The male medic said.

"All right, we've got him from here. Thanks." Greider said, returning his attention to his patient.

The two medics collected the rescue basket and left. In that brief time, one nurse had started undressing the man, checking for further injuries. Another nurse was drawing blood to be tested so they could find out just what had been pumped into him and a third was monitoring his vital signs. It was the third nurse that got Greider's attention.

"Dr. Greider? He's awake." She said.

"He is? Good." He leaned over the other man and said, in a clear tone "Agent Granger? Can you look at me? I'm Dr. Greider, you're at UCLA Medical Center."

Agent Granger's eyelids flickered open a millimeter more, his gaze falling on Greider before, what can only be described as, a look of utter panic crossed his face. A cross between a moan and whimper came from him and, amazingly, he tried to move, almost like he was trying to get away from something, someone.

Greider frowned. What had happened to this man? The increased beeping of the heart rate monitor made him look up; what he saw was not good. The man's pulse had jumped from 55 beats to 65 to 70 beats to 75 and was steadily climbing.

"Agent Granger, just relax. You're going to be okay. Just relax." Greider told the agent. It was imperative to get the man to calm down. If he had another MI, he might not survive it.

Another moan came from the stricken man and his heart rate went up another few notches. Greider stepped back, out of the man's line of sight. He watched as the agent's eyes darted around the cubicle, then watched the man's heart rate drop just a bit from 80 back down to 77.

The most unpleasant thought skittered through Greider's mind. He poked his head out of the cubicle and snagged the first resident that didn't look like him. "Dr. Coolidge!" He barked. "Over here!"

Dr. Michael Coolidge, rail thin with fire engine red hair, spun around at the sound of his name being called and came over to the cubicle. Greider pulled him inside and said "Stay with him, treat the symptoms as they come but don't give him anything until I get another doc over here, got it?"

Dr. Coolidge nodded and Greider was gone.

He paced through the ER looking for a specific someone, someone he hoped wasn't busy with another patient. The gods were with him. At the far end of the ER, seated at a desk, thumbing through a stack of reports, sat his quarry, Dr. Eric Vernacke, dressed in hula girl scrubs that day.

"Eric, I've got a patient up here, a federal agent, who may have been tortured. He took one look at me and his autonomic responses went through the roof. I can't get near him without sending his pulse rate into the stratosphere. I need you to step in for me."

Eric nodded and heaved himself to his feet. "Which cubicle?"

"Trauma Three, thanks."

"Any time."

Greider watched Eric disappear into Trauma Three with a sense of frustration and helplessness. Sometimes, it didn't matter what you did, it mattered what you looked like.

"Dr. Greider?" A nurse came up to him.

"Yes, Francis?" He turned to look at the petite brunette.

"There's an agent in the waiting room who says she has information on the drugs used on the agent just brought in."

"Really? Excellent." He turned back around and walked out into the half-full waiting room. Every last person looked up when he came out but only one person approached him. A tall, blonde woman looking decidedly worse for wear.

"Dr. Greider?" She asked. "I'm Agent Reeves. I work with Agent Granger."

"Yes. The nurse said you had some information?"

She nodded, pulling out a notepad and flipping it to a certain page before handing to him. "These are the drugs we assume were used on Agent Granger. We don't know the amount used or when they were used, except maybe the potassium chloride."

Greider looked down at the list and whistled. He couldn't help it. The fact that the man in Trauma Bay Three was breathing after being dosed with the drugs on the list in front of him was nothing short of a miracle. He looked up at Agent Reeves. "Thanks. This'll help a lot."

She gave him a brief smile. "I was hoping you'd say that." She paused for a moment, then added, "Is he going to make it?"

He gave her a smile, a real genuine smile. "If I have anything to say about it, he will. He came to for a few moments. I told him where he was. He seemed to understand."

She smiled in return. "Thank you. Take care of him, Doc. He's a good friend as well as a teammate."

He nodded and ripped off the sheet of paper, handing the notepad back. "It'll be a while before he's moved…does he have any family that needs to notified?"

"That's being taken care of by our boss. If he asks me about Agent Granger's condition, what should I say?" She asked.

Greider thought for a long moment. "Tell your boss that Agent Granger is holding his own. I don't know much about the man but I can tell he's a fighter." He held up the sheet of paper. "I've got to get this back there. Thank you again for bringing it."

She nodded and he left her staring after him.

Greider moved swiftly to Trauma Bay Three, stopping just outside the cubicle. He could hear Eric talking to the agent. He waited a moment, then poked his head in and handed the list to the nearest nurse. "Hand that to Dr. Vernacke. It's the drugs probably used on the patient."

She nodded and he pulled his head back out of the cubicle. A few minutes later, Dr. Vernacke, Eric, came out. "I'm glad you showed up with that list when you did. I didn't know if I could sedate him or not. I went to check his pupils and he took a swing at me." He said.

Greider nodded. "One of his teammates just handed it to me not five minutes ago." He rubbed his chin with his hand. "She asked me if he was going to make it."

"And?"

Greider grinned. "I said he would if I had anything to do with it. Am I a liar?"

Eric snorted. "Not yet but looking at that list…" He shook his head.

"Dr. Greider?!" A nurse called for him. "Trauma Bay One!"

"Thanks." Greider said, going off to see his next patient. He took one look at the man being wheeled in, saw the man's jacket and said to the nurse "What? Another one? What is this? _Two for One Fed_ Day?"


	25. Missing Scene 3 Bonus for 2 Years

**'Too Skinny to Fit Behind the Radio Mast'**

"Ryan?"

A familiar voice and a touch on his shoulder made Tim Ryan, the HRT medic for Alpha Team, open his eyes and look into the worried face of his boss, team leader Javier Flores. "Yeah, Flores?"

"How you doin'?" Flores asked, he crouched down next to Tim.

"I've been better." Tim replied. The second dose of morphine he'd given himself hadn't quite kicked in yet. "Just sitting here wondering when can I stop being a medic and just be a patient myself?" He gave Flores, a weak smile.

"Funny." Flores replied. "When you quit the FBI. You quit and then you can be the patient."

"That all?" Tim replied. He pulled his badge folio from his left front pocket with his good arm and handed it Flores. "I quit. Can I go be a civilian now?"

Flores rolled his eyes and pushed Tim's hand away. "The Port Police helio is leaving shortly, you're going to be on it."

"Great." Tim swallowed. "Think the pilot will take me to the same hospital that Granger went to?"

Flores shrugged. "I don't see why not. Especially if you ask nicely."

"Well, just point Nicely out and I'll ask him." Tim was starting to feel the morphine pop from the second shot he'd managed to give himself after shoo'ing the cute Coastie Medic away.

"Oh man. Come on, the helio's ready to go." Flores told Tim, helping him to his feet.

Tim wobbled when he stood, the deck of the ship pitching under his feet. Yeah, the morphine was definitely kicking in.

"Martin! Get over here!" Flores bellowed.

Tim winced. "Not so loud, Javier. I'm right here."

The HRT member Flores summoned, Clement Martin appeared at Tim's shoulder. "Help Ryan into the helio." He said. "I'll be back in a moment."

Clement draped Tim's good arm around his shoulder. "I hope you can still walk man, you ain't no light weight."

"Ha, ha…see if I don't remember that crack come time for physicals." Tim groused.

"Yeah, like you'd forget something like that." Clement replied.

He had just finished getting Tim into the helicopter when Flores appeared at the helio's door.

"There's a ambulance waiting for Ryan on the dock." He told Clement. "I'm riding with him that far. You can pick me up when you get back to shore."

Clement nodded and stepped back. He watched as Flores joined Tim in the back of the chopper, then crouched down as the chopper's blades started to spin. He waited until the chopper was in the air before turning around and rejoining the rest of the team.

"ETA two minutes." The pilot told Flores through the headset.

Flores nodded. "Roger that." He cast a worried glance at Ryan, slumped against the helio's door. He was pale, even for a white guy, however, Ryan roused enough when he overheard the pilot's announcement.

"UCLA" was the words that came out of Ryan's mouth, well, Flores THOUGHT that is what Ryan said, it was kinda hard to hear over the whump of the blades and Ryan's own slurriness.

"Landing?" Ryan looked back at Flores, causing him to look past the wounded medic's body to see the docks approaching. The docks were fast approaching, an ambulance sat waiting, it's light's flashing in a steady rhythm.

"Yep. Almost there."

"Good ... need to puke."

"Not in my bird, you don't!" The pilot snapped.

Ryan just nodded, but turned a little green as the pilot dropped the bird's nose and piled up a bit more speed. The chopper landed with no time to spare, Ryan wrenched the door open and heaved out the door.

"He'd better have missed the skid." The pilot grumbled.

Flores looked down as he followed Ryan out of the bird, "Don't worry - he hit nothing but pavement."

"Good."

Flores slammed the door shut on the helio, then thumped on it to indicate that they were out. In moments, the helio was airborne again, becoming a mere speck in the sky in moments. The two medics meeting the chopper already had Ryan in hand but the medic seemed to be fighting them about something. When Flores got closer, he understood. Ryan did not feel he needed a stretcher. "Get on the damn gurney, Ryan." He snapped.

"Boss... I'm fine! Finer than fine, now that I puked. Damn morphine, always did have a sensitivity to the crap." Ryan said.

Flores crossed his arms. "That's an order, Ryan. Get on the damn gurney."

Ryan just grinned the goofiest damn grin Flores had ever seen on the man. "Make me!" Then he collapsed onto the gurney in a fit of laughter.

Flores shook his head. //_Why did I get out of bed this morning?_//

While Ryan was giggling, one medic shifted his legs onto the gurney, the other belted him down. The older of the two medics looked over at Flores. "Sir, did I hear him right? He's already got morphine onboard?"

Flores nodded in response. "Any idea how much?" Flores shook his head. "He's our medic, whatever was in his kit."

"Okay ... Uh, Agent--" The medic read the name tape on Ryan's jacket, "Agent Ryan ... can you tell me how much morphine you've taken?"

"Hmm... one, no, two premeasured thingies." Ryan responded, then giggled like a lunatic again, before handing the civilian medic his kit.

The older medic looked through the kit and told the other medic the dosage.

"Heh. He's probably going to regret that when it wears off and the pain hits full force." The younger medic replied.

The older medic looked at Javier and asked "What exactly happened?"

"Hostage situation gone wrong. We managed to get the entire team onboard the outbound ship before the lead started flying. Tim here managed to catch one when he couldn't find cover fast enough."

"Too fat to fit behind a radio mast." Tim said, giggling.

"Fat? Ryan, you're too skinny." Flores leaned down over his teammate. "Why do you think Consuela is always sending you home-cooked goodies?"

"Consuela..." Tim's smile broadened. "She got any sisters?"

Flores rolled his eyes as he nodded to the civilian medics. "You know the answer to that, Ryan. Get him out of my hair, will ya?"

The older medic nodded. While Flores had been talking to Ryan, the younger medic had cut the windbreaker away and was assessing the damage.

"Hey, who bandaged this up?" The younger medic asked.

"Me. Who else?" Ryan tried to sit up on the gurney but found he couldn't.

"Yeah, right, no offense Agent Ryan, but this is too neat to have been done one-handed."

"It was a Coastie medic before she got pulled away." Flores said.

The two medics exchanged looks before the older one nodded, "Had to be Jess."

Flores quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. They obviously knew whoever the medic was.

"Hey, why can't I sit up?" Ryan complained.

One of the medics laid a hand on his shoulder as they lifted the gurney into the treatment bay. "You're strapped in for your own safety, Agent Ryan. Now, be a good little Fed and lay still."

"Man..." Ryan grumbled. He glared at Flores. "I told you I didn't need the gurney."

"Ryan, shut up, lay still and play nice." Flores glared at him.

"Which hospital are you taking him to?" Javier asked. The older medic, who would do the diving, shrugged his shoulders. "That's pretty much up to him or you. Got a preference?"

"UCLA!" Ryan shouted from the back of the treatment bay.

"Okaaaaaaaay. UCLA Medical Center it'll be then." The medic next to the back doors agreed. "You heard the man, Bryan, let's get this dope - uh, wounded agent - to Uk-Lah."

Flores snorted. It looked like Ryan was in good hands and would be fine. But there was a chance he wouldn't be back on duty for a long while, which would put the HRT Unit One in a bind. However, Flores was pretty sure the other members of the unit would step up.

"You going with him?" The younger medic asked, leaning out of the treatment bay.

"No need. I'll catch up with him later. I've got reports to file. Take care of him, will ya?"

The medic quirked a grin. "'Course." He motioned Flores to step out of the way before shutting the doors of the ambulance.

Flores waited until the ambulance was on it's way before turning on his heel to walk to where his unit had parked their vehicles. It was going to be just a little less than a half mile hike, but it would do nicely to help him blow off steam and start to mentally compile his after action reports. He set off at a deliberate pace.

* * *

"Agent Ryan ... were you part of the incident that brought Agent Granger to our ER?" Dr. Greider asked as he took a look at the wound under the pressure pad bandaging Tim's arm.

Tim nodded. "How you think I got shot?"Greider nodded. "Maybe you can answer a question for me then?"

Tim looked at Dr. Greider. "Depends on the question."

"Fair enough." Greider replaced the bandage and, picking up the chart from the table, made a notation. "Looks like you're going to need x-rays to determine the amount of damage to your arm, I'll send you down there as soon as I can." He put the chart back down and looked back to Tim. "Anyway, for my question about Agent Granger ... when he regained consciousness, he took one look at me and his autonomic functions, breathing and heart rate, went into a classic 'panic' mode. Any idea why?"

"He woke up?" Tim was surprised to put it mildly.

"Sorta. More like a low level of consciousness ... he was there, but he wasn't, if you catch my drift?"

Tim nodded. He took a good look at Greider taking in the brunette hair, the hazel eyes, the makeup of the doctor's face.

"You kinda look like the guy who'd been after Granger."

"After?" The doctor sounded confused.

"Do you know what probably happened to Granger?" Tim asked, taking a different tack, reluctant to divulge any more details of the mission that absolutely necessary.

Greider sat back down on the rolling stool and nodded. "It's not 100 certain - yet - but the paramedics who brought him in, plus my own observations before he panicked ... I'd venture a guess that he'd gone through some sort of chemical interrogation?"

Tim nodded. "That's the suspicion. You kinda look like the guy who'd been..._conducting_ the interrogation."

The doctor paled and brought his hand up to his mouth. He sat like that for nearly a full minute before he dropped the hand and spoke up again. "Then it's a damn good thing I removed myself from his case and turned it over to another doctor then."

"Yeah...but you couldn't have known that. Is he going to make it?" Tim asked.

"I can't begin to speculate on that, Agent Ryan. But I can tell you, the doctor I handed his case over to, Doctor Vernacke, is one of the best trauma specialists in the entire southwest."

Tim nodded. "Granger's a good man." He blinked. The pain from his arm starting to come back as the morphine worn off.

"Looks like I need to get you another pain killer dose... how about something other than morphine?" Greider asked as he stood up and rolled the stool back against the wall.

"'Kay. Morphine makes me puke anyway." Tim said.

"Right, a nice shot of Demerol coming right up. I'll send the nurse in with it before I call x-ray for you." Greider left the exam room in a flurry of white over ciel blue scrubs and, in a few minutes - as promised - a nurse came in wielding a loaded syringe.

"Hi." Tim said, determined to remain conscious as long as possible. Maybe he'd learn something else about Granger's condition. The fact that he'd regained some level of consciousness was amazing.

"Hello, Agent Ryan." The nurse said, smiling at him. "Which cheek do you want this in?"

"Whichever one is closest." Tim said.

"Righto - on your side then and nurse's choice." She sounded just a little too perky about it too.

Tim rolled on his uninjured side and waited.

"Okay, you can roll back over, Agent. I need to check your bandage again now that you're fully loaded."

"You're good, I didn't feel a thing." Tim said, rolling back over.

"Honey, I've been doing stuff like this for well over 20 years ... of course I'm good. Lots of practice." She completely removed the bandage Greider had loosened, tossing it in the bio-hazard bin, and with skilled hands and in less than a minute, had replaced the covering.

"Did you see the other agent that came in before me?" Tim asked.

She nodded but otherwise didn't answer as she made her own notations on his chart.

"Is he going to make it?"

He could feel the Demerol spreading through his system. In a few minutes, he'd be lucky to remember his name. He had to get an answer now.

She put the chart back down and looked him in the eyes. "Honey, Dr. Eric Vernacke may dress like a damn clown, but he's the best in the business. If anyone can pull your friend through whatever happened to him, Vernacke can."

Tim nodded. "How was he?"

"I've not been involved in his treatment." She smiled, again at Tim when he felt his mouth frown. "But, from what I'm hearing? He's got a chance. Everyone who's in with him are tops and, from the looks of things, he's got friends pulling for him too. That helps." She moved a little closer to the gurney Tim was lying on and readjusted the upraised back. "Why don't you just lay back and relax and let the professionals take care of you for a while ?"

Tim blinked, the nurse was getting fuzzy at the edges. "Sounds good to me."

She turned around when another person wandered into the room. "Hey, John, you here to run this one down to your department?" John nodded. "You want help? He's fading fast after a 10cc boost of Dem."

"Please. Any and all help gratefully received." John said.

"You got it. Agent Ryan? Hold on tight, you're about to go for a ride."

Tim blinked and nodded. "Kay."

The 'ride' was mercifully short and, before he knew it, he'd had his photo taken and was back in the exam room, waiting for the orthopedic surgeon to show up and take a looksee. He would've liked to have seen the surgeon and talk with him but by the time he arrived, Tim was fast asleep, the Demerol doing its job.

* * *

The next time he was conscious, the nurse from earlier - Michelle, according to her name badge - was starting an IV. "Ah, you're awake." She said. "How're you feeling now, Agent Ryan?"

Tim blinked. Demerol worked, really well. As a result he usually wound up with a wanging headache but not that time. "Well, at least it doesn't feel like I've got a white hot poker in my arm."

"I hope not! This is just a saline drip – for the moment. I'll be adding an anti-inflammatory and antibiotics in a few minutes. Dr. Calvo was in, wants us to get the swelling down in your arm first, but he's penciled you in on his surgery schedule for later today."

"Okay." Tim looked over the bandages covering his arm. "Just how badly did I break it?"

She looked at him as she taped down the IV stick. "You awake enough to read your own x-rays, Paramedic Ryan?"

He nodded. "I'd like to try anyway."

She nodded, then pulled two photos out of a specialized sleeve and held them up for him to look at in the overhead lights. "Tell me what you see."

Tim's eyes popped open. His humerous, the upper arm bone, was sticking out at a more than 10 degree angle to the rest of his arm. "Damn..." He murmured. He'd be lucky if he gain full use of his arm after all was said and done. And then there was the hairline fracture, just above the actual break. It was kinda hard to see but it was there.

Michelle shook her head as she put the films away. "Agent Ryan, do you usually have the gift for understatements?"

He snorted. "Depends on the situation."

"I see." She put the x-ray sleeve back on the counter and picked up two vials, one of penicillin and the other Azithromycin and showed them to him. "Are you allergic to either one of these antibiotics, Ryan?"

"Penicillin." Tim said.

"Right." That vial went back on the counter and she loaded the syringe in her hand with the Azithromycin - making sure he could see her do it and letting him double check the label himself before loading the medication into the IV bag through the injection port.

"How long was I out?" He asked.

"About two hours. You want T-3 or Demerol and ibuprofen for your pain and anti-inflammatory?"

"T-3."

"Good choice." She loaded up another syringe, going through the double check and courtesy of letting him check her work before Michelle loaded that drug of choice directly into his IV line. "That may burn a little when it hits your system."

Tim nodded. "Can you find out anything more on Agent Granger?"

Michelle let out a sigh. "I knew you'd ask ... he's being readied for transport up to our CCU. He's alive, but it's going to be iffy for a while, at least until the crap that was used on him is flushed out of his system."

Tim let out a sigh of his own, one of relief. "He's still here. He'll make it."

"Yes, he probably will." She patted him on his thigh before heading toward the door. "You try to get a little more sleep before the scrub nurses come to take you to their lair. You want the lights left on or turn 'em off?"

"Leave 'em on. And thank you."

Michelle gave him a weary smile, "You're welcome, Agent-Paramedic Ryan. Rest." And she was gone, pulling the door closed, but not all the way, as she went back out into the hall.

Tim lay back and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. Just before he dropped off to sleep, he wondered how she knew he was a medic.

* * *

Gradually, Tim came back to consciousnesses. He shifted in the bed, blinked and yawned. Slowly, the room came into focus and he found himself staring at the ceiling. His last clear memory had been of a man, in ceil blue scrubs, coming into the pre-op room to start the anesthetic for the surgery. After that, nothing.

He looked around the room, then down at his arm, openly staring at it. Resting on a pillow, his arm was encased in a plaster cast from mid-finger up to past his elbow half way up his upper arm, sticking out of the cast was enough metal to set off any number of metal detectors. It looked like a mini-erector set had been built around his elbow.

//_Damn, PT is going to be a total bitch_.//

He lifted his arm off the pillow surprised that he didn't feel anything except a heaviness. As that knowledge sank in, a smile spread across his face. If his arm wasn't killing him, he could find Granger and see him with his own eyes.

Tim's eyes swept the room. No clock. Crap. He'd have to wait for someone to drift past to see him before he would know how long he'd been out. He looked up at the IV attached to his arm, then down at the port on the back of his hand. It would be easy to disconnect the IV without taking it out. That way he could sneak off, come back and reconnect the IV without alerting the nurses that he had gone anywhere. He looked down at himself. No heart monitor, no O2 monitor. A quick peek under the sheets told him no catheter. This was getting better and better. He'd be gone and back before anyone knew.

Now, where was it that Michelle had said Granger was being taken to? CCU? Surely there was a map in the hallway or somewhere close by that would tell him which floor CCU was on. He sat up, slowly, letting himself readjust to being vertical, threw back the blanket and sheet and slid out of bed. He'd detach the IV in a moment. He wanted to get his legs under himself first. It was a good thing he took those few seconds because the moment he stood, his head spun and he was forced to sit down.

//_Okay, this may take a longer than I thought._// He never quite knew how he'd react to anesthetic or how long the effects would last.

He heard footsteps in the hallway, approaching his room and, quickly, slid back into bed, throwing the blanket and sheet back over his legs and waist. He had plenty of time to find Granger. The door to his room opened and a nurse walked in.

"Oh, good, you're awake." She came over to his bed. "I thought you might be around this time."

"What time is it?" Tim asked.

"8:32 p.m." The nurse, Sharon, her name tag read, said. "How are you feeling? Is your arm hurting?"

He shook his head. It was only 8:30?

"That's good." She reached behind him to pick up a blood pressure cuff. "Are you hungry?" She walked around to the other side of his bed and wrapped the cuff around his arm.

Tim thought while she took his blood pressure. He nodded after a few moments thought.

"All right, I'll see what I can't do." She undid the cuff, hung it back up and pulled a thermometer from her pocket. "Open."

Tim obeyed, closing his mouth when told to do so. He watched Sharon making notations in the chart at the foot of the bed, wondering if he should ask her about Granger.

"Dr. Calvo said he would be by in the morning to see how you are doing. He was quite pleased though at how well the surgery went." Sharon told him, taking the thermometer from his mouth when it beeped.

Tim nodded again. "Ma'am?"

"Yes, Agent Ryan?" She said, making one last notation before closing the chart and returning it to its place.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

A smile crossed her face. "Agent Granger is resting. He's holding his own from what I've been told."

Tim's eyes widened. How did…?

"We nurses have our ways." She replied. "I'll make sure someone from Dietary makes it up here with a tray for you. Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head. "Thank you."

"Thank you." Sharon replied. She left the room with Tim staring after her.

* * *

It was until just after the shift change at 11 p.m. that Tim had the energy to get up and go roaming. After Anna Wilson, the head nurse and probable heir to Genghis Khan, had checked on him, he figured he had at least twenty minutes, maybe more. It all depended on how many patients she had to look in on.

After detaching himself from the IV and slipping out of bed, his first task was to see if there was anything he could wear that wouldn't leave a draft. The gods were smiling down on him for in the closet, he found a patient robe. A check of the nightstand drawer revealed his credentials. He slipped in them into a pocket in the robe and was out the door. He knew he'd probably be on the receiving end of at least one lecture for getting up and moving around so soon after surgery. Not that he cared. He had to see that Granger was still in the land of the living before returning to his room.

Being careful not to bump his arm, he made it all the way to the elevator without seeing another person. The nurses station was empty and so was the elevator when he got on. According to the directory on the wall of the elevator, CCU, Critical Care Unit was on Floor Four. He was currently on Floor Two. He hit the button and waited, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. If, by some quirk of fate, he passed out in the elevator, he would never live it down.

A moment later, the elevator dinged and he stepped off onto Floor Four. A sign with an arrow pointing to the left directed him toward CCU. A few moments later, he was there, standing outside of Granger's room, watching him sleep. One of the nurses on duty had given him a look but let him be after taking in his arm and its mini-erector set.

There were a multitude of machines around the other man, all flashing and blinking. Part of Granger's face was covered with an oxygen mask but that was to be expected. What worried him the most was how still Granger was. He had never seen the other man so lifeless. Granger was a study in perpetual motion.

He rested his head on the cool glass wall and sent up a prayer to whomever might be listening. Movement out of the corner of his eye made him raise his head. Granger's eyelids fluttered open, his eyes roaming the room before spotting Tim. A weak smile crossed his face before vanishing as quickly as it had come. He tried to raise his arm to wave, but his arm barely moved. Then, sleep reclaimed him and his eyelids slid shut. Tim smiled. Granger would be fine.

"Do they know you're down here? I bet not." A nurse came over to him. She was a different from the one who had seen him walk in a few moments ago. She was a bit older and more formidable.

"Uh..." Tim felt trapped. He looked through the glass again at Granger. He wanted to go in but had a feeling that that was as close as he was getting. Attila the Hun, or Marcie as her nametag read, didn't look like she was going to let him near her patient. So, he tried the one thing he thought he might work, the truth. "I work with Agent Granger. I just wanted to look in on him, that's all." He held out his credentials.

She looked at his identification, glanced at it then handed the folder back. "You were hurt in the same incident?"

He nodded. "Can I go in?"

She nodded but tapped her watch to remind him to keep his visit time limited. "Just don't wake him, and make it short."

He nodded back and walked into the room. He came over to Granger's bed and, after casting a quick look at all the machines, looked down at the sleeping man and said, quietly "Hang in there, man. I didn't get shot just so you could die." He backed out of the room before Attila could drag him out. "Thank you." He said again.

"You're welcome, Agent Ryan. If it'll keep you in your own bed ... he's going to be okay. It's just going to take a while." She smiled and, for some reason, Tim got the impression of a momma grizzly bear protecting her cubs.

"Yes, ma'am." He retreated to the elevator and returned to his room before the nurses on his floor started to look for him or so he hoped but his luck was not that good.

When he stepped off the elevator, he saw her standing there in the doorway and knew he was busted. She stood in the door to his room, her foot tapping out a furious rhythm on the tile flooring. "And just where have you been, young man?"

"Sorry, Mom, I forgot my math homework." Tim quipped.

"Funny, try again." She moved aside to let him into his room, but decided to follow him inside.

Tim shrugged. "The only person who calls me 'young man' is my mom." He walked into the room and headed for the bed. He shrugged off the robe and returned his credentials to the nightstand before sinking onto the bed. It felt good to sit down.

"Yeah, well, I'm old enough to be your grandmother, so respect your elders and answer the question." She helped him climb into the bed, arranging the pillow to rest his pinned arm on and then pulled the blankets up over his waist. She clucked at him as she reattached the IV to the shunt in his hand. "You take out this IV again, and I'll reestablish it the hard way."

"Yes, ma'am." Tim smiled at her. The last thing he wanted to do was tork off the nurse, especially the head nurse. If he did, he'd never get out of the place. "I went to check on a fellow agent."

She nodded, like she'd expected that answer. "Thought so. One of the nurses up in CCU called down, wondering if we had misplaced a patient."

He flushed. It hadn't occurred to him that he would be 'told on'. "Ma'am, it'd be real hard to explain why I went down there."

Anna smiled knowingly. "Agent Ryan, the patient you went to see is a fellow agent and, I'm assuming, a friend. Trust me, I understand."

He nodded. "So, you're not too mad at me?"

She tucked the blankets around his feet a little tighter before answering. "No, I'm not mad. But next time you decide to go wandering the halls, tell me. I like to keep track of my patients. How's the arm feeling?"

"Not bad, kinda heavy actually. If I had told you were I was going, would you have let me?"

"No." She answered quickly, but before he could protest, she amended her response. "At least, not on foot. I would've taken a break and wheeled you up there myself."

That was an answer Tim had not been expecting. "You would?"

"Of course. I understand the bond of the badge ... nurses have something similar you know." She checked the chart at the foot of his bed, nodded at something she read there and then looked up at him. "We're going to start stepping you down off the Demerol, you need anything for pain just now?"

He shook his head. All he wanted to do right then was sleep. "No thanks."

"Okay. Get some rest and I'll be back by in a little while." She patted him on the left foot as she left the room, a smile gracing her sixty-something face.

Tim smiled. The next time he went to check on Granger, he'd take Anna up on her offer. He shifted around in the bed, closed his eyes and went to sleep.


	26. Missing Scene 4 Bonus for 2 Years

Here is another missing scene from Two Years and Too Many Days. This is what happens on Gareth's end after Don calls and tells him what happened to Colby.

Enjoy!

All relevant disclaimer info still applies. In other words, please don't sue us, we're still poor. ;-)

* * *

**Missing Scene – 2 Years – "I'm Going – That's Final."**

Catherine looked up from the soup she had started earlier that afternoon when she heard the distinctive sound of tires on gravel and was a little surprised to see Gareth's unit pulling up the drive. "What in the world? Gar, if you've gone and caught that damn cold that's been making the rounds..." She put the spoon down, turned off the heat under her venison stew and, wiping her hands clean on the apron she was wearing, stepped out on the back porch to greet her husband. "Gareth? You're home earlier than usual - you feeling okay?"

"Babe...I got a phone call from Don just a couple of minutes ago." Gareth said, coming up the steps.That's when she noticed his complexion was more than a little gray. "What happened to CeeJay?" She braced herself for the worse. So much could happen to a man in a jail or prison.

Gareth sat down on the closest chair and took a deep breath. "CeeJay was broken out of the detention center. It was all part of the assignment. He and Dwayne were supposed to meet Dwayne's handler on a freighter." He took another deep breath before explaining any further. "They did."

Catherine sat down next to her husband. "Something went wrong, didn't it?" He nodded. "Tell me."Gareth looked at his wife of 42 years.

"CeeJay was rescued."

"Oh bless the Lord." She let out a sigh of relief. Then realized there had to be more or Don Eppes wouldn't have called Gareth. "Gar ... what happened to my son?"

Gareth balanced his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't really know, Cat. Don told me that it was worse than when Mad Hattie got a hold of him."

She nodded, then got up from the table and started to pull out enough containers to put the stew away in. When she turned back around and saw her husband hadn't moved from his spot, she verbally prodded him. "What are you waiting for, Gigi? Go pack for us both. We've got to get to CeeJay's side."

He didn't move. "There's a jet coming. The Bureau is sending a gawddamn jet."She merely nodded. "So go pack. If they're sending a jet, then CeeJay needs us there, not wasting time here."He swallowed. "I don't think...is your back going to be able to handle the trip?"

She finished ladling stew into a large Tupperware container then turned to face her husband. "Gareth Grant Granger, if you think - for one moment - that you're going to leave me here when my, OUR, son needs us... you'd best get that thought out of your damn head right now."

He stood, a sad smile on his face. "If it had even crossed my mind...?"

She strode over to him and, tilted her head back to stare him in the eyes. "I'd just have to beat some sense into you. Now, go pack. I'm going to call Doctor Icky and see if he can call a script in for me that will keep my back from spazing too much on the flight down."

"Yes, ma'm." He walked from the room.

She put the dish in the fridge, then made two phone calls. One was to the Clinic - where she got Doc Lynde instead of Nowicke - who agreed to call in a prescription for her. The second was to Doris, who agreed to watch the house, take care of the place and get the house ready for whatever may come. Up to, and including - heaven forbid - the kids coming home to bury a brother.

_"Is it bad, Cat?"_ Doris Speeck asked over the phone.

"I don't know, Doris. You know how tight lipped Gigi can be. This is worse than usual."

_"Oh, Lord..."  
_  
"Yeah, and he didn't completely tell me 'no' when I said I was going to LA with him. What does THAT tell you?" Catherine was pulling meds down from her niche, tossing them into her backbag - knowing she'd need them for the flight and afterwards.

_"He didn't look happy when he left either. Okay, I'll take care of everything. You'll be in my prayers all of you."_

"Thank you, Doris ... there's a huge container of venison stew in the fridge, you take it for you and Jamie so it doesn't go bad, all right?"

_"I will. Remember Cat, the Lord won't give you more than you can handle."_ Doris told her. _"My best to CeeJay."_

"I'll be sure to tell him. Doris, by chance is Bill hanging around the station? I need a favor--"

_"Uh...yes, yes he is."_ There was a slight rustling on the line as Doris obviously put the phone down, away from her mouth, before yelling. _"Bill? BILL! Get over here, Cat's on the phone...she and Gigi got an emergency."_ More rustling_, "Got 'im right here, Cat."_ There was more rustling on the line as Doris gave the handset over to Bill Huston, Gareth's second in command._"Cat? What's going on?"_

"Something with CeeJay that has the FBI sending a jet to Cascade to take us to LA. I don't have much more than that right now."

_"Oh my God."_ Bill took in a noisy breath_. "What do you need, Cat?"_

"As you're all too aware, the airport is closer to here than Bart's Pharmacy is ... Doctor Lynde called in a script for me - so I don't tie myself into a pretzel ... could you please pick it up for me and meet us out at the air field?" Cat looked up as Gigi staggered into the kitchen, lugging two medium sized suitcases and looking like he had rethought her going along with him.

_"Absolutely. I'll see you there."_

"Thank you, Bill." She hung up the phone and turned to face Gareth who, as she thought, was clearly getting ready to protest something.

"Babe..." He started to say.

"You forget to tell Bill he's in the hot seat again?"

Gareth frowned and shrugged. "I'd tell him before I got to L.A. Now as for L.A..."

She shook her head. "I'm going, Gareth, that's final."

He put the suitcases down, came over and took his wife's face in his hands. "I don't know if you should. What if your back goes out on you?"

Catherine smiled and put her arms around his waist. "Then I'll deal with it and, let's face it, the drugs Doctor Lynde puts me on should, hopefully, prevent that." She looked up at his face. "Besides, Bill's picking up a script for me at Bart's and will meet us at the air field. It's a done deal, get used to it. I'm going with you to be with our son."

He swallowed. "I'm just worried. CeeJay wouldn't like to know that your back went out because of him."

She squeezed him around the waist, then let go and grabbed up her backbag from the counter. "Gareth, this is my baby boy we're talking about. If you seriously think I'm going to stay here when he needs his mother--" She didn't wait for an answer, just started walking out the door and over to her Chevy as she called to him over her shoulder, "Hurry up, ya old fart!"

Gareth shook his head, grabbed the suitcases and hustled out the door after his wife.


	27. Missing Scene 5 Bonus for 2 Years

Another missing scene - actually, we took it out to keep the 'pace' of the story moving at a fast clip. This one takes place ... well, you'll figure it out.

Enjoy!

Suisan & AmyD

* * *

Missing Scene – 2 Years – **"Watching & Waiting"**

The waiting was the worst. After speaking with Don and sending both him and his father on their way, there was nothing to do but sit and wait. Cat sat next to her son's bed, his limp hand in hers. Occasionally, she glanced at Gareth but that was all. Gareth watched, wearier in both body and soul than he had ever been.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger?" A new voice came from the doorway of Colby's room.

Both Gareth and Cat looked over and beheld the sight of man with dark hair, dressed in scrubs with hula girls on the shirt, dark blue pants and neon blue clogs standing there, holding a chart.

Gareth stood but waved at Cat to remain seated. What ever the doctor would say, she had best stay seated.

"I'm Dr. Erik Vernacke." The man walked into the room and shook hands with both Gareth and Cat. "I'm the ER doctor that saw your son. I came to give you an update on his condition while the attending physician is getting up to speed."

Gareth nodded but it was Cat that spoke first. "What happened to my son?"

"Your son was injected with three drugs. Quinuclidinyal Benzylate, tubocurrae and potassium chloride."

Gareth's eyes widened at the mention of the last drug. Suddenly, the bruises on CeeJay's chest made sense.

"These drugs work on the central nervous system, making the senses go into overdrive as it were." Dr. Vernacke looked down at the chart then flipped it shut. "Until they're completely flushed from his system, the slightest touch will be extremely painful to him."

Cat looked down at her hand in her son's but did not let go. She looked up at Dr. Vernacke and asked "But he'll be all right?"

Dr. Vernacke nodded. "It will take some time for the drugs to work through his system but he'll be fine."

She nodded. "What about the bruises on his chest?"

Dr. Vernacke hesitated for just a moment. "Your son had CPR done on him, it's normal for bruises to present themselves afterward."

She nodded. "Thank you for not letting my boy go before I, we, could get here."

He gave her a tired smile. "Your son's a fighter, Mrs. Granger. The attending physician should be here shortly. I need to get back down to the ER."

"We appreciate you coming up here." Gareth said.

"You're welcome." Dr. Vernacke turned and left the room.

He was gone no more than a few seconds when Gareth turned to Cat. "Honey, I'll be right back. I just thought of something to ask the doctor."

Cat, her attention focused on Colby, nodded absently.

He left the room and sprinted down the hallway, hoping to catch the doctor at the elevator. If he missed him, well, his questions would just have to go unanswered. "Dr. Vernacke?" He called out, spying the other man at the elevator bank.

Dr. Vernacke turned away from the open elevator door and waited for Gareth to come up to him before speaking. "Yes, Mr. Granger?"

Gareth heaved out a breath, then spoke his mind. "I don't want to keep you from your job any longer than I have to but I have to know something."

"And that would be?" Dr. Vernacke asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"What _didn't _you tell my wife and I back there?" Gareth asked, not wishing to irritate the man but he had to know.

Dr. Vernacke's eyebrows went up. "What do you mean?"

"I've been in the business way too long and I can tell when someone's not saying everything they know."

Dr. Vernacke regarded Gareth with cool stare and replied. "You're a doctor?"

Gareth shook his head. "Cop. Been one for over 40 years. You paused just a fraction of a second when you told us about the bruises on CeeJay's chest." He swallowed, then added, "His heart stopped more than once, didn't it?"

Dr. Vernacke did not reply immediately. Instead, he studied Gareth with that same unflappable look that he had had when speaking with them earlier, leaving Gareth feeling like a bug under a microscope. Finally, he nodded. "It was in the original medic's report."

"That's why you said he was a fighter, wasn't it?" Gareth asked, a sick feeling welling up from the pit of his stomach.

"Partially." A smile quirked at the edges of Dr. Vernacke's lips. "Your son came to in the ER for a few minutes. I don't know if he was aware of where he was but when I shined a light in his eyes to test for pupil reaction, he took a swing at me."

That got a real, honest chuckle from Gareth. "That's my boy." He said. He took Dr. Vernacke's hand in both of his. "Thank you again for keeping my boy alive and for answering my questions." He released the doctor's hand and pushed the 'down' call button for him. "Are you almost at the end of your shift?"

A tired smile graced Dr. Vernacke's face. "About half-way through it. Your son will be all right. I wish all the people I saw in the ER had his will to live."

The elevator arrived and Dr. Vernacke got on and was gone before Gareth could reply. Once the elevator doors slid shut, Gareth leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling for a long, long time before slowly walking back down the hallway to CeeJay's room.

"Gareth?" Cat asked when he came back in. "You get your question answered?"

He nodded and sat down to wait for his son to wake up. Something that almost hadn't happened.


	28. Missing Scene 6 Bonus for 2 Years

Missing Scene – 2 Yrs – **When The Dam Breaks**

Catherine waited. She'd spoken with her son's boss. Telling Don Eppes things he needed to know about her family history so he could begin to wrap his head around what Colby had had to do and why he was good at it; then she and Gareth had listened to Colby's attending physician and nearly wilted when the young doctor said her son was a fighter and that he had a 'damn good chance' of pulling through this latest medical mess. She'd questioned the doctor, a man with the unlikely sounding name of Vernacke, about the bruising she'd seen on her son's chest and he reassured her that it was 'normal' for someone who'd undergone two rounds of CPR to present contusions like that.

It didn't mean she had to like it.

There was only a handful of times Catherine had ever seen her youngest child so damn still. Once when he was nine and had fallen from the barn's loft trying to imitate his eldest brother's antics and, then again, when he was 16 and had taken a pretty hard clout to the head during a match – unintentionally of course – and had been knocked unconscious. Even when she'd managed to fly to San Antonio after he'd been medically evacuated from Afghanistan and flown to Brooks-Army Medical Burn Unit, he wasn't still – even though it had to have hurt to move with the burns he'd suffered from the detonation of the IED.

That same incident had set his feet on a path which would land Colby in UCLA Medical Center some ten to eleven years later. All because the buddy who'd pulled him out of the burning Hum-Vee had turned traitor and had dared to approach CeeJay and ask him to assist in the spy business. Because Dwayne Carter had saved his life. Cat had met the young Sergeant Carter on that trip to Texas, and her instincts had screamed at her to advise her youngest to cut all ties with the man, but she saw how close the two soldiers were and kept her mouth shut.

Now, looking at CeeJay so still on the medical bed in a Critical Care Unit, she really wished she had listened to herself and had warned him of her intuition that Dwayne was no good news.

She was standing at the bedside of her youngest, Gareth right beside her, and struggling with emotions that were starting to bubble up within her. She looked up at her husband and he must have seen something in her eyes for the next thing Catherine was aware of Gareth was pulling her from Colby's hospital room and down the hall to the very room she'd left Don shell-shocked in.

"Babe?"

His nickname for her was all it took for the Iron Wall of Will to crumble like so much rusty tin, for the fear to rise to the surface and cause her to start crying even as she sat down on the couch. The tears were silent at first, which caused Gareth to pull her into his arms and cradle her head on his shoulder. The sobs never got loud, but they didn't stay quiet and he did his best to reassure her.

"Shush…. Shush. He'll be okay, Babe, he will."

Her mind fixated on the bruises she'd seen and the noises turned wracking. "Did you see? ..._sob... _His poor chest! ..._sob... _Oh, Gar, it was ..._sob... _THAT close!"

He started to gently rock her, not hard – nor too far for fear of injuring her spazzy spine – just in a manner which they'd both used to comfort their kids and each other in bad times. "Yeah, I saw. But he's a fighter, Cat, always has been. Besides, he's got people willing to step up for him too."

She nodded and, slowly, Cat was re-establishing her control over her emotions as the sobs faded and she started to sniffle. "Gar ... Our, my son is not a traitor. He is NOT going back to jail, even if--" She bit her lips and clamped her teeth shut on the words she's almost spoken aloud.

Gareth looked down at her, his more brown than green hazel eyes flashing. "Catherine Roberta Larsen Granger...I know you were _not_ about to suggest what I think you were about to suggest."

She dropped her head back so she could look up at him without too much pain in her cramped neck and gave him the sly little grin that had caught his attention over 40 years ago. The smile that had been all she was wearing at the time when then Boise patrolman Granger had ordered her to get dressed and she'd all but dared him to 'do it for her.' It was her way of letting him – and others – know she was, indeed, dead serious about whatever the subject at hand was. "Now why would I, the wife of a Chief of Police, even hint at such a thing, Gar?"

"Because you're a mother who loves her children very much. But think about this before you turn yourself and CeeJay into a featured story on America's Most Wanted. Do you honestly think that Don would have gone through all this trouble if CeeJay wasn't undercover?"

Gareth felt her body tense up under his arms and belatedly realized he probably shouldn't have said anything that would remind her of her son's predicament prior to his 'arrest' for treason. "You just HAD to remind me that you knew my baby was in the line of fire and you kept your trap shut, didn't you?" Cat nearly snarled at him.

He set his expression. "And I would do it again. He's not a kid, Cat. He's a grown man."

She let out a sigh, then squirmed out from his embrace and, standing up, looked to be attempting to stretch her spine. "I know, Gar. I just wish he hadn't volunteered for this mission. Maybe I should've forbidden my father from telling the boys stories but they loved Grandpa Bobby's tales of daring do."

Gareth almost grinned. "I'm sure he's thinking the same thing. And if you had forbade Bob from telling his stories, would that have stopped him?"

Catherine snorted. "Hell no. If anything, it would've encouraged him to tell them the more outlandish tales - the ones still under congressional seal, mind you - with certain details edited out, of course."

"So, it was better for you to do what you did." He stood and reached for her hand.

"Yes." She squeezed his hand. "It's just too bad Stephen didn't live to tell his own tales..."

"True but he is up there, looking down on us. Maybe he's CeeJay's guardian angel. Lord knows the boy would need someone like him."Cat let out a chuckle. "Oh yeah, just what every Federal Agent needs - a Spook Angel."

Gareth smiled. "Well... Think about. Who other than a Spook would be the perfect guardian angel for a Federal Agent?"

"True." She reached into the pocket on her bag, pulled out a tissue and dried her face and wiped her eyes clear. "Okay, I've had my breakdown, let's get back in there to our son and let him know we're here and that we're waiting for him to wake up."

Gareth's smile broadened. The storm was over and no one had seen anything. He opened the door and held it for her. "You know he's going to know you were crying any way?"

"Of course. But I can pretend otherwise and he'll pretend to believe it. Just like I raised him to."

Gareth snorted. "And just what are you going to tell him when he asks why you've been crying, hmm?"

"The truth, what else?" She smiled as she walked into their son's CCU room and lightly brushed her hand over Colby's sun lightened brown hair. "We're back, CeeJay. You can wake up now."

When CeeJay didn't so much as twitch, Gareth convinced Catherine to sit down in the chair next to the bed and prepare to wait as long as was necessary.

Colby James Granger was not going to wake up alone in a strange place.


	29. Missing Scene 7 Bonus for 2 Years

This is another "Missing Scene" for 2 Years 65 Days 2 Many.

Think back to ... I think it was part 12 ... when Don made arrangements for David to take his standing appointment with Doctor Bradford? He talked to the good doctor's secretary?

This scene follows the END of the story ... Enjoy!

AmyD & Suisan - your Friendly Nieghborhood Twisted Evilettes!

* * *

**Very Special Cookies**

She peered at the package and then looked up at Don. "What is this?"

"An apology and a thank you. For juggling the Doc's schedule at the last minute to help me help my team."

She looked down at the box, saw the postmark of Albany, NY and reached for a pair of scissors.

Don watched, waiting for the moment when Lilya, Will Bradford's secretary, realized what she had.

She cleared away the protective wrap and let out a shriek.

//_Thank you, Tomas_.// Don silently sent a thank you to his buddy from the Academy who had driven down from Albany to Troy to get them.

Bradford came barreling out of his office; the sidearm Don didn't know he still carried gripped in a two-handed Weaver. "What the hell!?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Will. I didn't mean to yell like that." Lilya said. "Agent Eppes brought me a wonderful thank you present."

William Bradford looked at her, then glared at Eppes. "It had better be one HELL of a present to elicit a response like that. I could have shot either of you."

She pulled a small brown box from amongst the packaging and held it up for his inspection. "Freihoffer's chocolate chip cookies. If you want to taste God in a cookie, these are it. You can not get these cookies outside of New York State, you just can't."

Now Bradford really did glare at Don. "What? My months of working with you don't rate Freihoffers? Guess I know how you feel about my services now."

Don held his hands up in surrender. "I plead the fifth." He said.

"Right. Smart move. All right, its a few minutes early, but you may as well come on in here, Eppes." Bradford led the way through the door into his inner sanctum, trusting Don to follow if he wanted to.

Don leaned over the desk and gave Lilya a gentlemanly peck on the cheek. "Thank you. Really, thank you." He followed Bradford into the other man's office before the older woman could say anything.

William was pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee, decaf, when Eppes finally came into the office. He silently offered the agent a cup, which he turned down, and Will took his time doctoring his cup as Eppes settled down into what had become his 'favorite' chair.

"So, Eppes, how is your team doing after last weeks of excitement? Agent Granger all right - or as much as he can be for the moment?"

Don shrugged. "It's kinda hard to tell actually."

"How so?"

"Colby's gone back to his folks place in Idaho for a couple of weeks. David's decided that maybe he'll rejoin the human race and Megan is...well...she's Megan."

"That one is probably the most level-headed member of your team, but you knew that." Will didn't sit down behind his desk but, rather, came to sit in the chair across a side table from Eppes. "However, you are finally starting to get back on a level field yourself."

Don's eyebrows quirked upward. "Really? What makes you say that?"

"You've just been put through the pressure cooker of a butt-munching exercise because you MAY have started an international cluster fuck and, according to all I've heard about it, you never really lost your temper."

Don shrugged again. "There wasn't anything to get mad about, especially not after I saw the tape that... bastard made of the whole thing."

Bradford nodded. As a forensic psychologist and a practicing counselor for the Law Enforcement community with actual undercover work in his past, he'd been asked to watch the tape Eppes had located on the freighter. Thankfully it had been AFTER he'd talked with Granger for the last time before he was sent home on medical leave. It hadn't been easy to watch, but it had made him ratchet his opinion of Granger, and the rest of Eppes team, up a few more notches. But there was no need to tell Eppes that. Not yet.

"I understood it was ... bad."

Don snorted. "You could say that."

"The important thing is this - he survived and so did everyone else on your team. How you process things from here on out, is entirely up to all of you."

A small smile quirked at Don's lips. "So, does this mean I'm normal again?"

Now it was Will's turn to snort - and nearly splash coffee down his shirt in the process. "Yeah, right. Normal. What the hell does 'normal' really mean?" Will put the mug down on the side table. "Do I think you're still a loose cannon? No. Do I think we're going to come in some morning and find you gibbering in your cubicle? No. Other than that, yeah, you're pretty much getting a clean bill of mental sharpness from me." Bradford looked at Don, tilting his head to one side and saluting the agent with his cup. "Which is all you really wanted after you were pushed into coming to see me on the Hoyle case, right?"

Don shifted uncomfortably in his chair; loathe to admit that Bradford was right. "Well...yeah."

"And it only took a nearly a year of 'sessions' and you're still here." Will leaned back, steepling his fingers in front of his chin and starting over the tips at Don. "Shame that I pretty much reported back on the Hoyle case two weeks after our first meeting."

Don's eyes popped open in surprise. "You did?"

"You never check your own personnel jacket, do you?"

"Why would I?"

"You wouldn't, unless you were paranoid. Nice to know I was right in that case - that you wouldn't check and, yes, if I kept my mouth shut about it, you might come back to just talk. And, wow, you did." The sarcasm was starting to come out, but this wasn't a 'real' session and William had gotten to know Eppes pretty well. The man responded best to honesty. Brutal honesty even.

Don nodded. "I was so damn mad when I first came in here...not that _that_ wasn't blindingly obvious but even then I knew I didn't HAVE to come back. I did anyway."

"Eppes-- No, Don. No cop ever wants to admit that he - or she - might need to just talk with someone who won't judge them after an incident like the Hoyle case. We're supposed to be tough hombres who just suck it up and keep going." Will sighed. "Unfortunately, its the ones who never seek assistance who usually end up in the morgue long before they should."

"That's why I sent David to see you. I wasn't as bad as he was, was I?"

"Yes and no. He was just ... different from you."

Another nod from Don. "Megan told me she thought we might qualify for a group discount." He rolled his eyes. "I told her she wasn't funny."

This time Will laughed out right. "I don't do Group Discounts . . . however, if you want to come and see me as a team, I can do that."

"I'll consider it, really, I will." He chewed on his upper lip for a moment. "I don't mind saying that I wasn't so sure I'd have a team after last week."

"Have you spoken to them about that? Including Granger?"

"Not really. Afterwards, when it was clear that Colby was going to be fine, I just..." Another shrug.

"Still having issues with true and open communications, Eppes? Do I need to make sure you have an appointment next week?"

"'Avoidance tendencies,' is that what the phrase is? I guess that was just one more thing I didn't want to deal with but then David came within a fistfight or two of getting fired and Colby was muttering about leaving. Hell, I don't even know if he's going to come back to Los Angeles. He can have his pick of assignments, why would he come back?"

Now William found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. What any of his patients told him in a session was private and pretty much under the same sort of 'seal' as a Catholic's confession to a priest. However, he knew Granger had stopped thinking about leaving the FBI the last time they'd talked, but only if he could stay in Los Angeles. If the Bureau tried to send him somewhere else the young agent would probably quit right then and there.

"Don, have you talked with Granger about that?"

Don stood and walked over to the window of Bradford's office. "No, I haven't." He turned around and looked at Bradford. "I'd be happy to have him back but I figured he'd want to be some place where people weren't always staring at him. Of course, I was also trying to keep David from getting fired and keep Megan from quitting as well but that's not a reason."

"Maybe. However, that same man just did two years undercover so I'm pretty sure his skin is thick enough to take stares."

Don nodded.

"As for the other members of your team . . . They are settling down now, right? No more crises to hold their hands through? So what's holding you back from talking to all your agents and seeing how they feel about the idea of Granger staying on here?"

"Nothing. I just have to do it. I'm sure that Megan would be more than happy. David, though...I just don't know."

"Never know until you do it." Will glanced at his watch, just as Eppes did the same with his timepiece, and realized they'd been talking for nearly an hour already. "Yeap, it's that time again. You want me to have Lilya keep you penciled in for next week?"

"Sure."

"Consider it done. And, when Granger is back, even if it's only temporarily, make sure you have Lilya schedule a three hour block of time and I'll do my best imitation of a Hostage Negotiator."

Don started to laugh. "You sure you really want to do that?"

Will shrugged. "Sure, I haven't messed with group dynamics since Med School, but I'm pretty sure I can still handle some still wet-behind-the-ears federal pukes." His smile was wide, taking the potential sting out of his words.

Don made the appropriate face. "See if I try to be nice to your secretary again." He held out his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Eppes. Now shoo before my next client sees you leaving and thinks I'm not tough enough to take you down a peg or two."

"God forbid." Don said, going out the door.


	30. Missing Scene 8 Bonus for 2 Years

There aren't too many more of these lurking about on our computers, but as we find them and clean them up, we'll post 'em!

This one takes place before Cat, Colby and Gareth Granger arrive back in Cascade, Idaho in chapter 22.

Enjoy!

Suisan & Amy D - your Friendly, Neighborhood Twisted Evilettes.

* * *

**Settin' Up the Ol' Homestead**

Doris looked around the Granger barn; not at all pleased with the way the Granger Brothers had 'cleaned' it. "Lars! Cliff! Codieeeeeeee!"

Lars busted out of the back door of the house. "What is it, Aunt Dee?"

Connie could hear Doris summoning the Granger brothers when she got out of her Suburban.

"You call this cleared and cleaned?" Doris pointed at the floors; the old stable boxes and the tack room that was standing wide open.

"Come on, love." Connie said to her husband of 12 years. "Let's help before Dee wipes the floor with them."

Cliff wandered, made that stumbled, out onto the back porch and waved at Connie and Rick as he slowly wove his way down the stairs. Rick snorted. "They're grown men, Connie. It's their problem. Hey, Cliff!" Cody wasn't too far behind and actually pulled Cliff to a stop, pointed back at the house and pushed him in that direction. "Oh boy, Cliff looks like a hundred miles of bad road." Rick said to Connie, taking her hand in his.

"Can you blame him? From what I heard, he was given 15 minutes to get his gear together and off he went. He went leapfrogging half way around the world." Connie replied.

Lars walked into the barn and looked around. "It's been swept, the tacks been put away … what more do you want? A full blown scrubbing? It's a drought, we can't do that."

Doris put her hands on her hips. "No, not a scrubbing, but there's still nests of spiders everywhere! And where are the lights I sent over?" She spotted the box in a corner and stomped over to flip it open. "Never mind, I can see no one thought to string them up."

"Dee? We're here! Sounds like you need help." Connie and Rick walked into the barn.

Cody approached the Jamison couple and greeted them. "Hiya, Connie, Rick. Are you sure you want to help us with this? Already sounds like Doris is in a mood."

Rick clapped Cody on the shoulder. "Sounds like you need all the help you can get."

"That was good of you to send Cliff back inside." Connie said.

Lars sighed as he looked at Doris, then over toward his remaining brother. "Fine. Cody - spider detail. Unless you've had enough of dusting?"

Cody grimaced. "Enough. I dusted the entire house, you get the barn. I still need to scrub the kitchen floor."

"How's Colby doing, any news?" Rick asked of the two present Grangers even as slamming doors heralded the arrival of Crystal and Jeff Stimache, more honorary uncles and aunts.

"Colby's like a damn Timex--" Lars started to grouse, then stopped. "He's doing, and I quote my father, 'as well as can be expected after what he's been through.' Damn Squirt's going to cause more gray hairs on the parents than the rest of us combined."

"Dee?" Jeff bellowed from the driveway. "Where are you, woman?"

Rick swallowed his laugh but Connie didn't. "Put a few gray hairs on you too, huh, Lars?" she asked.

"HERE!" Doris called out to the newly arrived and pulled Cody along with her as she stepped back out of the barn. "Cody, go finish what you need to - Lars and the rest of us will handle the barn. Set the table up for the full load - Jamie's having to draft other people to help haul the goods out here."

Lars nodded, "Yeah, Connie, he did. He just can't seem to stay out of trouble."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Lars Granger."

"I may have been a reckless youth, but at least I didn't damn near die...again"

Up the driveway came Jeff and Crystal, a study in contrasts, Jeff, a big bear of a man and his wife, a petite thing who barely came up to his shoulder.

Connie took his face in her hands. "Lars...you and I both know that that's just the fear talking so I'm going to ignore that remark." She dropped her hands to his shoulders and squeezed. "Colby scared everyone including himself, I'm certain."

"Yeah, it is, Con. It's just--" He shook his head as if to clear it. "--Okay, enough of that. We need to get this place ready for a shindig the likes this town hasn't seen since Mom chaired the last Valentine's Day Dance."

Connie snorted and let go.

"Dee...Jamie'll be along later, Bill's not quite wanting to let him go, just yet." Jeff told Doris when he reached the barn.

"Just point me in a direction, Dee." Crystal said. "I heard something about lights needing to be put up?" she asked.

"Bill's got Jamie tied up with something? Oh, no, not my MY watch..." Doris stomped out of the barn and up to the house and barged in like she was family. Which, Lars reflected, she was. In a purely honorary way.

"You want the man to die?" Crystal asked her husband.

Jeff started to laugh, "Nah . . . Bill's just helping Jamie transfer everything to the evidence trailer before hauling it out here. I had to help him pull it out of storage."

There was laughter all around.

"How much time do we have before they arrive?" Rick asked.

Lars grabbed up a long broom and climbed up to the loft. "We'll hang the lights after the dreaded spider nests are down. I even seem to recall where Dad started to hide the block and tackle so we can swing the crystal ball from the high school out into the center."

"As long as you don't fall out of the loft." Crystal called up to him.

Doris came back into the barn. "Just grabbed a call from Gareth . . . the family is just about to board the plane for home. He's guessing they'll land at the airstrip in around two and a half, maybe three, hours."

"Good." Rick said, "That'll give us plenty of time."

Doris gave the barn another critical look. "Which should be just enough time to get this place 'ship shape' as Cliff would say if he weren't sawing logs like a lumberjack."

"He made it back in time?" Crystal asked.

"He made it back?" Jeff echoed his wife. "How'd he do that?"

Lars answered from above. "Yeah, got in late last night. Just before the airfield closed for the night. Looked like he'd been run over by a bus. According to Cliff - we have someone at the State Department to thank for getting his butt back home."

Rick whistled. "Wow. Friends in high places, huh? Must be nice."

"Was he still out in the Persian Gulf?" Crystal asked.

"Yeah, the Big E's on deployment in the PG. Or Indian Ocean, he wasn't real clear when I asked."

Another whistle, this time from Jeff. "Hell, be happy he can remember his own name at this point. That's a bitch of a trip." He flushed and added, "Sorry...excuse the language."

Doris looked over at Jeff Stimache, "Deputy Jeff - you can curse all you want, you earned that right in the first Gulf action."

Jeff blushed further. His face matching his hair for the moment.

"Rick, care to guess how Cat, Gigi and CeeJay are getting home?" Doris asked even as she started to untangle the light strands from the box at her feet.

"Don't tell me, let me guess...a State Department jet?"

Doris howled, "Nope. The LA Field Office Director is lending the clan his jet. The same one that snatched Cat and Gigi to LA when the news came in."

"Hey, must be nice, traveling by jet. I wonder if they have to take off their shoes." Rick mused.

Looking around at the assembled personages, including the one in the loft, Doris decided the current 'family' members were more than enough to tackle the chore at hand. Lars, in fact, was done knocking down nests and was stringing up the old block and tackle. "Lars! Don't you even think of doing what you did at 15.'

"I already warned him, Dee." Crystal said.

"Where do you want the lights?" Connie asked, bending down to open another of the boxes assembled on the floor, the blushing glow from Lars' face was like an emergency light.

"Yes, Aunt Dee."

Snorts from Rick and Jeff only added to the lightness of the moment.

Doris pointed at the frame rail that ran along the top of all the walls and the 'floor joist" of the loft. "I think all the way around and any that we can string along the rafters -- Rick, I think Gigi put the 30 foot ladder out back in the storage shed last Christmas, would you look please?"

"Yes, ma'am." Rick saluted and head out toward the storage shed.

Connie and Crystal unpacked the lights and started to string them along on the floor in the general area that they would be hung in.

Jeff stood there, not quite knowing what to do.

The sound of a car pulling a trailer over gravel got her attention and Doris looked out the open doors to see a Cascade PD patrol unit, pulling the sheriff's evidence trailer, coming up the drive way. "Oh good, the real resident monkey is here. Connie, Crystal, let's get that trailer unloaded and leave the men folk to get the barn squared."

The two women nodded and left Jeff standing there waiting for Rick's return from the shed. Crystal kissed her husband on the cheek before leaving.

"Grams! I'm here." Jamie Speeck climbed out of his unit and, opening the back driver's side door, pulled out a large cloth sack with a suspicious shape. "Hey, Grams, where do you want the Ball?"

Doris pointed at the barn. "Take it out there, Lars is getting things set up in there with Rick and Jeff and those men will need a young simian to swing the ball to hang where it needs to go."

Jamie flushed. "Aw, Grams, do you gotta call me that?"

"Yeap. You never have outgrown the perchance you have for swinging on ropes. Or don't you recall that I have photographic proof?"

Meanwhile Connie and Crystal had made their way around to the back of the evidence trailer.

"Man, do something once and they never let you forget." Jamie muttered as he stomped up the drive with the mirrored ball in his hands. "Hey Lars?! I got the ball!"

"Great! Bring it on! The ropes are in place and ..." Lars' voice faded to where the women couldn't hear it as Jamie ran into the barn.

Connie released the latch on the trailer's door and opened it; Crystal opened the other door. They all stood there and looked at what was inside.

Doris peeked in and let out a small swear. "Crike! Where in the hell are we going to put all of THAT?"

"Well, it's not supposed to rain." Connie offered.

"There's a couple of trestle tables in the old school shed." Cody volunteered from behind the ladies.

"Can you manage them, Cody?" Connie asked.

"We're gonna need them." Crystal said.

"Yup. Ladies, Cliff couldn't sleep through the racket and has hopped into the shower to try to wake up. Don't go near the bathroom up there unless you want a frightened squid on your hands."

All three women snorted.

"It's not like I haven't seen each and every one of you in the all together." Connie said.

"That's because you were butt naked too, Connie." Crystal supplied.

Cody nodded. "True enough, but Cliff's gone strange. Too many tours in the PG I think. Picked up the area's fear of nudity or something."

"We'll leave him be. Is he going to be awake enough for the party?" Connie asked.

Cody scrubbed the short hair on his head. "Hope so. If not, I can probably get the coffee strong enough to melt paint and pour it down him."

Connie snorted. "Then bottle up the rest of it and give to me. I need a good kick start in the morning." She touched Cody on the arm. "How you all doing?"

"It's been rough, Connie, but you know us Grangers. We take the kicks, kick back and keep going." Cody gave her a peck on the cheek before heading out to the school shed to grab the trestle tables.

"The whole families tough, Connie." Crystal said, pulling the first box of stuff out of the trailer.

"You know it. But don't let them fool you, Crystal." Doris said as she pulled another box out.

"I know, I know...I'm entitled to ask though." Connie replied, reaching for another box.

"I prefer not to dwell on what happened." Doris said. "The last six and a half weeks have put this family through the wringer and it's up to the rest of this town - especially the 'extended family' - to remind them that the world's all wrong and they're all right.'

"Damn, you'd think a party store had exploded in here." Connie's voice was slightly muffled as she climbed into the trailer.

Crystal nodded. "You're totally right, Dee."

"Each and every member of this family is getting a great big hug from me."

There was a thump and thud and a few cuss words floated out. Nothing fancy, just old favorites.

"Check in the back - I think Al Pitt supplied a bunch of 'adult beverages' for the older family members." Jamie spoke up as he walked by, holding one end of a large table, with Cody holding the other end.

"You all right, Connie?" Crystal called into the trailer.

"Yeah, I found the beer, Jamie just mentioned." Connie called back.

"Beer? Real, honest to God _BEER_?" The ladies turned around to see a still damp Cliff Granger standing on the porch.

"That got his attention." Crystal said.

"Yes, Cliff, real honest to God beer." Connie climbed out of the trailer, a box in her hands. "You want one? They're not cold."

"Oh thank goodness." He started to reach for one, then dropped his hand back to his side. "No, better not. Not yet anyway. One beer may put me down for hours."

All the women smiled. Cliff always had been the more levelheaded brother.

True to her word, Crystal came over and smothered Cliff in a hug. "I am so happy to see you!"

He looked into the trailer, spotted the boxes holding the beers and colas and shook his head when the odor of sticky sweet cinnamon wafted by his nose. "Oooh, Aunt Rose has been at it again!"

"I think Rose bought out every last stick and bottle of cinnamon in the tri-county area." Connie said.

He returned the hug. "It's good to see you 'gain, Crys. You too Connie. Now, let me see what I can scrounge up for a couple of coolers, or we'll have to soak the drinks in the creek to cool them."

Cyrstal took his face in her hands before letting him go, then kissed him on the cheek. "I am so proud of you, all of you."

Doris, who'd crawled up in the trailer called out, "Never mind about the coolers, Cliff. Just get up in here. I think Al sent what we need."

Connie climbed back into the trailer. "Crystal, when you're done huggin' the stuffing out of Cliff, come and give me a hand, will ya?"

"Dee, you don't need to be climbing around in here! Crystal and I can handle it." Connie said.

Cliff climbed up into the trailer, having to bend over to fit without crawling, and found Doris was right. Pitt had sent over no less than six 40-gallon coolers. Just no ice. He shook his head. "Nearest ice plant is sill up in McCall, right?" Heads nodded all around. "We'll need an ice run."

Doris climbed back out of the trailer, guarding a pale green box like it held pure gold. "I found what I was hoping was in there."

"What?" Connie asked.

"Gather round ladies and I'll show you the way to our youngest Granger's heart."

Cliff groaned, he knew what was in the box. "That's just nasty, Aunt Dee."

Connie and Crystal climbed from the trailer, followed by Cliff, who frankly couldn't stand another minute in the tiny trailer.

"Not to your little brother, Cliff." Doris dug a set of keys out of her pocket - "Here, take my truck to McCall and fill the bed with all the ice you can haul."

"We could send Jamie." Connie volunteered. "He could use the lights and sirens." She grinned.

Cliff snagged the keys and, after making sure he had his wallet, took off down the trail that lead to Doris' house.

"Nah, best to let Cliff do the run ... that way the ice will be enough to last. Now, are you curious about the contents or should I just go hide this in CeeJay's room as a welcome home gift?" Doris asked, her voice sly.

"Doris Speeck, don't be a tease." Crystal said.

"Right. Had to send off to Southern California for this-- Ladies, from the Aritza Farms, I present you the weakness of Colby James Granger." She opened the lid on the box and showed off the contents. Natural pistachios surrounding what looked like two-dozen 'sandies' type cookies. "They look like pecan sandies, but it's pistachio. Colby loves those nuts."

"Aw...how sweet, Doris." Crystal said.

"That's right, he does like pistachios." Connie added.

"No, he LOVES pistachios. He would wallow in them - given half a chance." Doris amended.

Doris took off to hide the box of treats in the one place CeeJay would be sure to find them - under his bedspread like an extra pillow, then came back down stairs to help get everything set up.

A little under three hours later, the Granger Boys took off in Cat's Suburban to pick up the rest of the family and Doris, Connie and Crystal started the phone chain. The plan was in motion and not even an act of God was going to stop this welcome home party.


	31. Missing Scene 9 Bonus for 2Yrs and JLS

**Damn Debt Discharged**

By The Twisted Evilettes

For a very special person – she kept begging and now she owes us a story or two…

EvilTwinsGrin

* * *

"Just make sure you get to the Van Nuys airfield on time!" Chief Gareth 'Gigi' Granger called out as he climbed into the rental car before taking off toward Pasadena, to gather up his and Cat's things from the Eppes house before flying, with their youngest son, back to Cascade, Idaho.

Don waved his acknowledgement of the Chief's instructions as he climbed into the driver's seat and, after closing the door, looked over at his passenger. "Your father always like that, Colby?"

Granger shrugged. "Pretty much, but his constant nagging us boys about being somewhere on time made sure we developed a wicked time sense." The still recovering agent put his seatbelt on and, once Don was sure he was secured, they headed toward the younger man's apartment.

The drive out to Segundo wasn't all that bad, the time of day pretty much assured the lighter traffic patterns, and before too long, the two men were climbing out of the SUV and climbing the steps to Granger's place.

"Don, it'll just take me a few minutes ..." Colby said as he opened up his apartment. "I tend to keep a bag nearly packed at all times. You know, just in case?" The truth was, he had a hard time dropping the habit the Army had drilled into its SpecOps forces.

"Not a problem." Don looked down at his watch. "We've got plenty of time. You need some help?"

"Nah, just make yourself at home." Colby waved him toward the kitchen as he walked toward the back bedrooms. "Not sure what might still be safe, but you're welcome to whatever you find."

Don looked around the place. It was a newer apartment, Colby hadn't wanted to stay in the place he'd nearly died, thanks to Hattie MacPherson, and the FBI had helped him relocate. In the months since the move, Granger had done a pretty good job of creating a 'home.' Something he couldn't even come close to saying, even after years of living in the same place.

One thing that bothered Don ... there wasn't a speck of dust in the entire place. How could that be, who'd been taking care of the place while Colby had been in jail?

"I had a maid service." Colby answered Don's unspoken question when he emerged from the back. "I'd paid for three months in advance just before my 'arrest' - which is why there's no dust."

Don quirked a smile at his subordinate. "Am I that transparent, Granger?"

"Just a bit." Colby placed a small carry-on bag on the bar separating the kitchen from the living area. "That's one bag down. Now to grab the other one." He disappeared back into the bedroom.

Don shook his head and resumed his 'stroll' around the apartment. If anyone had told him six weeks ago where he would be and what he would be doing, he would have thought they were nuts. Happily, he would have been wrong.

After few moments of simply standing there, Don's curiosity got the better of him and he peeked into the unzipped carry-on, not all that surprised to see both Colby's Springfield 1911-TRP and a AMT BullDog .45acp backup piece nestled inside. He let out a low whistle. "Colby? What are you going to do with these on the flight back if you go commercial?" Don called to him.

"I haven't made that decision yet."

Don nodded even though Colby couldn't see him. He wandered around the apartment a bit more, listening to the sounds of Colby packing when the sounds stopped. "You done, Colby?"

Silence echoed through the apartment.

Don frowned. "Colby? You all right?" With his hand automatically going to his weapon in an unconscious manner and hearing nothing from Colby, he walked down the short hallway to the bedroom, peering around the doorframe. He saw Colby standing there, staring at something on the dresser and took his hand off his weapon.

"Colby?" He walked into the room. "You mind saying something next time? I thought space aliens had grabbed you or something."

Colby shook his head. Then picked up a framed photo from the dresser and held it out to Don. "What happened to him, Don? I keep asking but no one will tell me. Is Carter off in prison again? Do I need to prepare testimony against him?"

Don looked down at the picture of a younger grinning Colby and Dwayne taken in some desert somewhere. He swallowed. He looked up at Colby and put it as gently as he could. "Carter's dead, Colby."

Granger actually went white and sat down on the floor, the frame still clutched in his hand - the glass breaking under the pressure of the man's grip. "What?"

Don was shocked by the reaction; he had known that Colby would take the news hard but not this hard. He crouched down on the floor next Colby and gently spoke to the man. "He's dead. Dwayne shot Lancer after Lancer stuck you with the potassium chloride, then one of Lancer's goons shot him and I, in turn, shot that thug."

Granger's reaction to that surprised the hell out of Don. The framed photo went flying, crashing against the far wall, and Granger was cursing. "Damn him! Damn it! You just had to do it to me one final fucking time, didn't you Dwayne? Damn you!" Then Granger started to make noises like he was either laughing or on the verge of bawling his eyes out.

Don didn't quite know what to do. This was a side he had never seen in Colby and it left him at a loss.

After a few minutes, Colby calmed down and looked up at Don. "Don't worry, I'm okay. It's just some sort of macabre joke the universe is playing on me, Don." He rose smoothly to his feet, a move that made Don just a little jealous of the younger man's dexterity, and explained a little further. "Once again, I'm in his damn debt. I hate owing that guy."

The last five words were an echo of a similar sentiment Don had heard on the tape. Don stood and nodded. He put a hand on Granger's shoulder. "You sure you're okay?"

"I will be. Or so everyone keeps telling me." He reached over and with a few movements had secured his duffle bag and moved to pick it up. "Don--"

"Yeah?"

"Dwayne has a son ... is there anyway to make sure he never finds out Dwayne died a traitor?"

He thought about it, the number of reports the incident had generated, the huge amount of man hours poured in already and the loose organization the higher ups had slapped into place. Just making a few changes in the main body of the reports would, in the future, spare some innocent kid the stigma of being the child of a traitor. Don nodded. "I think we can manage that."

"Thanks." Colby picked up the duffle from the well-made bed and looked up toward the ceiling. "There, Dwayne, _now_ I'm paid in full on that damn debt from Kandahar province." He walked down the hallway toward the living area.

Don followed Colby from the room, leaving the remains of the picture frame on the floor. "Okay, you set? You got everything?" Don asked when they were in the living room.

"Yeah, just one more thing..." Colby reached into his back pocket and pulled out his identification folder and badge. "Hold on to these, will ya?"

Don stared down at the I.D. folder and badge and felt his heart sank. He looked up at Colby and shook his head. "Nothin' doin. You'll need them. Where ever you go."

"Don-- I don't even know if I'm coming back to the Bureau, let alone if I'm coming back to Los Angeles."

"Colby, listen to me. I can't tell you what to do but I'll say this, if you leave, we'll all pay for it."

"You do realize I may not have a choice in the matter, if I decide to stay in the FBI?"

Don made a face. "Yeah, that's occurred to me. I have been doing this a little bit longer than you." He smiled. "And I wasn't talking about just the team here in L.A."

Colby gave a little half grin as he put the folder back in his pocket. "In the sticky wicket called the Federal Bureau of Investigation - maybe. I probably have as much time as you in law enforcement, if you count my military stuff."

Don rolled his eyes. That was the Granger he knew. "Whatever." He looked down at his watch. "Come on, we need to get going. I don't need your mother glaring at me because we were late showing up at the airfield." He took the carry-on bag, zipped it up and headed for the door.

"Don?" Colby spoke up as he closed and locked the door to his apartment behind them. "I'll make you a promise ... no matter what I decide, you'll be the first to know. Okay?"

Don grinned. "Okay. Thanks."

END

Yes, that's the End (of this scene), but not the end of the story. Well, okay, it is, but trust me, this clan will not let the Twisted Evilettes rest. There are at least five – maybe seven – more stories in the works from the two of us. Some are duet projects, some are solo, all will involve the universe we've created and pretty much all of them we've assisted each other on – even the solo stuff.


End file.
